


Pygmalion Lost

by secooper87



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 63,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secooper87/pseuds/secooper87
Summary: Angel, guilty over destroying Drusilla, makes an idle wish to exactly the wrong person... someone with a very stylish pair of sunglasses. Now, Buffy and the 10th Doctor must figure out what happened in the past, so they can save the future. A VERY tame M or a slightly mature T.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Angel was meditating on the floor, trying to subdue the animal that Acathla's dimension had brought out in him. Deep breath in… deep breath out… focus… focus…

A cough, from behind him.

Angel jumped to his feet, spinning around and bracing himself for a fight.

There, leaning against a wall, looking extremely nonchalant, was a man with a pinstripe suit, red trainers, and a tan trench coat. Just a glance, and anyone'd think — least threatening person in the entire town of Sunnydale!

But Angel wasn't 'anyone'.

"Why are you…?" Angel glanced around himself. Was Buffy here? Or — even worse — had the Doctor finally learned about the arrangement Angel had made with that Sunglasses woman? Because Angel hadn't gone through with it — he'd thought better of it! "Listen, I promise, I didn't—"

"Drusilla," said the Doctor.

Angel froze.

All words dried up on his tongue.

"Oh, now, there's a guilty look, if ever I saw one," the Doctor said. He ran a hand through his hair. "Thing is, I was just looking through space-time for fixed points with a bit of elasticity in them — well, you know, just in case she failed the trial, and her mum had to bail her out — and I thought, 1860! London! Brilliant. Teach her not to interfere in her mum's past." Something cold sprang into his eyes. "But I would never have sent them there, if I'd known the full extent of what you did — Angelus."

Angel had no idea what the Doctor was talking about, in terms of children and elastic fixed points. But he knew — that wasn't why the Doctor was really here.

"Care to explain to me just what was going through your mind, at the time?" the Doctor asked, standing up straight. "Because I thought I'd seen the worst of you, with the Kalderash — but I didn't even scratch the surface…" He met Angel's eyes. "...did I?"

Angel looked away.

He wasn't really sure what to say.

"Just what, exactly, did you do to Drusilla?" the Doctor demanded. "Start to finish. In detail."

Angel closed his eyes, in pain. "You should get your friends out of there. Right now."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow. "And that's all I'm getting?"

Angel snapped his head back around, eyes blazing. "What else do you want? A confession? An inquisition? An in-depth examination of my guilty conscience?!" He advanced on the Doctor, shoving a finger in his face. "I regret everything I did to Drusilla. It hurts me, when I see her. It hurts me, when I remember. But what I did to her is in the past. There's no way to take it back." He gritted his teeth and pointed at the door. "So just do me a favor and leave me alone."

"Angel…" the Doctor said, dully.

"And be grateful," Angel added, "that I'm not cruel enough to march into  _your_  house, at random hours of the day, simply to chew  _you_  out for destroying Elizabeth."

The Doctor shot him a look. "Thanks for that, Angel. Nice 1-2 punch." He shook his head and gestured outside, at his time machine. "Actually, I left Angelus in 1860… only about five minutes ago. So while it may be the past for you, it's very much the present for me. And it's far from set in stone."

Angel frowned. "I don't understand."

"One of the friends I left, back there, may — or may not — have just gotten out of a year-long encounter with the Master," the Doctor explained, without going into any (probably necessary) detail about  _which_  Master. "If she has any lingering memories of that year — even just the tiniest trace — she'll take one look at what Angelus is doing to Drusilla…" He crossed his arms, his face going dark, "...and she will stop it."

Angel gave a dry laugh. "She won't. I know myself better than that. If she tries, I'll just go after her, too."

"Yes, well, thing is, she's a bit clever and a bit strong," the Doctor said. "She might just pull it off." He considered. "Or, at the very least, cause all sorts of temporal chaos, trying."

Angel stared at the Doctor. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Which," the Doctor continued, with an irritated sigh, "is why I'm here, asking you precisely what you did to Drusilla." He ruffled his hair. "And, much as I hate to admit it, I will be needing details. After all, can't swoop in and fix up the timeline, if I don't know what happened."

A pit formed in Angel's stomach.

"You're not here to lecture me about morality," Angel realized. "You want to know what I did to Drusilla, so you can make sure it stays the same. You want to make sure Drusilla remains just as destroyed as I left her."

The Doctor didn't answer this. His face grew even angrier, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground, shuffling, a little.

"Elizabeth was right about you," Angel muttered, turning away from him. "You really  _are_ a monster."

"Bit rich, Angelus," the Doctor said, his voice uncannily light and nonchalant. "Considering."

Angel went back to his meditation corner, now firmly determined to tell the Doctor nothing. As far as he was concerned, if the Doctor's friends changed history and made it so that Drusilla was never broken — that was perfectly fine with Angel. He'd probably thank them for it.

But he would not aid the Doctor in this.

Not at all.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, muttering something beneath his breath. Then, tried to plant a slightly friendlier, less angry look on his face. He took a step towards Angel.

"Look, I was hoping you and I might have a bit of a chat," the Doctor offered, a little more kindly. "After all, more information I have, more chance I could find some sort of… loophole. Some way I could help."

Angel still said nothing.

He returned to his meditation.

"Can't do anything too clever if you give me nothing to work with," the Doctor tried, again.

Still, Angel said nothing.

"Well, on your own head be it," the Doctor sighed, spinning around on his heels and walking out. "If you're going to give me nothing — I'd best be off. Friends to look after, trials to create, all that."

He paused in the doorway, hesitated, glancing back at Angel. Opened his mouth, to say something else.

Then thought better of it. Shook his head.

And left.

* * *

Angel didn't know how she found him, or how she knew. But, then again — he hadn't known, the last time she found him, either.

He was just sitting at Willy's Bar, one moment…

…and, the next moment, a woman with high-heels, a sleek black dress, and a pair of sunglasses in her mahogany brown hair slid into the seat across from him.

"Well, this is a rewrite," Sunglasses said, with a little smile. "The last I knew about any of this, you never saw me, again, in Sunnydale, after I threatened you. And now… here you are. Hoping I'd turn up."

Angel leaned across the table — and, in a very low voice, asked, "You said you want the Doctor. Will you stop him?"

Sunglasses gave an enigmatic smile. "I think what I want to do with him is my personal business, Angel." She folded her hands in front of her. "What's it to you?"

Angel told her — everything that just happened. All about the Doctor dropping into the mansion to lecture him about 1860 and Drusilla.

Sunglasses sat back, intrigued. "Drusilla," she repeated. "Interesting."

"I'd do  _anything_ to take back what I did to Drusilla," Angel insisted. "But he just waltzed into the mansion, acting like it has to happen, and all he can do is be the inhuman, stone-hearted Time Lord, bending the universe to his will! He  _wants_  her to be destroyed and insane! He said…!"

Sunglasses held out a single finger in the air, between them.

Angel, with a sudden panic, realized he could no longer physically speak.

Sunglasses thought, for a moment. "Drusilla. Yes, of course. I remember." Her face fell, and she looked away from Angel. "The Daleks got her, in the end." She shook her head. "A bad way to go."

Angel had never actually seen a Dalek — only heard stories about them, from Elizabeth, in the other timeline. But he had no idea how Daleks had anything to do with Drusilla.

"Do you want me to save her?" Sunglasses asked, looking up at him and lowering her hand.

Angel mouthed words he couldn't quite articulate. Did he want it? Yes! Of course! But… dare he? Was Sunglasses working for D'Hoffryn?

"I'm not a vengeance demon," Sunglasses told him — as if she'd read his mind. "I don't have to wait for an affirmative answer to go back and do it, anyways." She leaned forwards, her voice lowering, her eyes meeting his with a steady intensity, "But if you're against it, I can always hear you out."

"What I did to Drusilla was wrong," Angel said, carefully. "I know that. I just… all this time travel stuff… the paradoxes and the threat of universal destruction…" He shook his head. "I don't know how any of that works."

Sunglasses smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "But I do."

She got up, and told Willy to, "Put the drink on my tab." Then she winked at Angel, turned, and walked out of the bar.

* * *

**1860**

Drusilla ran through the convent, screams ringing in her ears. It was too much! It was all just too much! She was clinging, desperately, to the last few tendrils of sanity that remained inside of her.

Once, she'd had hope. An unearthly, heavenly girl had come to her and had sworn to save her from Angelus — to show her the light. But then, even Heaven had given up on her — dumped her here, knowing Angelus would find her.

And now…

What was left for her?

How could she go on?!

Drusilla turned a corner — and screamed, as she found herself face-to-face with Angelus. He grinned at her, without a single scrap of mercy or compassion in his eyes.

"Fancy seeing you, here, Dru," he said.

Drusilla turned and ran in the other direction.

She was struggling not to cry. She was struggling not to break down, screaming. Why had God abandoned her? Why had Heaven decided she couldn't be saved? Why…?

"Please, God," Drusilla begged the heavens. "Please! Please!"

A woman stepped out, in front of her, with a sleek black dress and a pair of sunglasses perched in her mahogany hair. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Angelus didn't even slow, when he saw the newcomer. She was just prey, to him — like all the others, here. He sprang at her, fangs bared.

The next thing he knew, the world was upside down — and Angelus realized Sunglasses had just thrown him through a wall.

Angelus burst out of the ruins of the wall, facing down Sunglasses. There was only one person he knew who could do something like this to him. Someone that, Darla had mentioned, could change her face.

"It's you, isn't it?" Angelus said, stalking towards her. "Different face, same person. Little Say-say. The Slayer's daughter."

"Drusilla, get out of here," Sunglasses told her, gearing up for a fight.

Angelus laughed, circling her. "Oh, no, you don't. Dru's mine, little Say-say. You can't…"

"Don't call me that," Sunglasses said, keeping herself between him and Drusilla. "That's not my name."

Angelus' face morphed. "Say-say," he taunted.

He sprung at her.

"Drusilla, run!" Sunglasses shouted, as she fought with him. "Get out of the convent and don't look back!"

Drusilla ran. The corridors of the convent blurred through her tears, and her heart beat so loudly, it rang in her ears. She felt the building shake, around her, and sprinted for the exit. Her mind was breaking… shattering… she couldn't think, could barely stop herself from dropping to the ground and screaming as she let herself fall apart…

Drusilla stepped outside the convent the moment before it collapsed — the force throwing her back and slamming her against the grass.

Drusilla stared.

Overwhelmed by the memories of the death and the screaming, overwhelmed by all that had just happened to her — Drusilla held her head in her hands and sobbed, curling up into a ball. "No more! No…! Too much…! Can't…! Can't…!"

The sobs turned into a scream, when a cold hand yanked her into the air. It was Darla — giving her a look that could have frozen lava. "Poor little broken thing," said Darla. "Time to put you out of your misery."

Her face morphed, so she sprouted fangs, and she leaned forwards to bite Drusilla…

Then Darla gave a scream.

And turned to dust, revealing her killer — Sunglasses.

Sunglasses lowered the stake and stepped forwards, towards Drusilla. There was a look of such kindness in her eyes, such concern creasing her brow…

"I don't…" Drusilla said, through choked sobs, trying to digest what had just happened. "I can't…!"

Sunglasses wrapped Drusilla in a tight hug and shushed her, gently. "It's all right," she said. "Listen to me, Drusilla. It's all right. I'm here. I came back for you — because you're worth it." She pat Drusilla's back, trying to soothe her. "Everything's going to be all right, now. You've been saved."

* * *

And that was when the timeline changed. And everything became very, very different.

* * *

**Now**

Xander strutted into the library, beaming. "Hey, guys! Guess who  _didn't_  get selected for the monthly blood-sacrifice?" He pointed his thumbs at himself. "This guy!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Now**

Xander strutted into the library, beaming. "Hey, guys! Guess who  _didn't_  get selected for the monthly blood-sacrifice?" He pointed his thumbs at himself. "This guy!"

Willow bit her lower lip. She looked away.

"Xander," Buffy said, pointedly, nodding over at Willow.

Xander hesitated. "Yeah, right… sorry, Will." He dropped his backpack to the ground, and sat — putting his feet up on the table. "Just — when my name came up on the short list, I thought I was a goner."

Buffy jumped up from her seat and went over to Willow, who was busy putting away books. "Will…" She put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "We won't let your dad get sacrificed. I promise."

The library fell silent.

Giles coughed, a little alarmed. "Buffy, you know the penalty for speaking openly, like that."

"Vacation to a radioactive wasteland, anyone?" Xander put in. He grabbed up some homework and pretended to be working — pointedly not looking at Buffy. "Or, maybe, we'll get lucky and just be slaughtered in the street." He shrugged. "I hear that's the cool way to die, these days."

Buffy bunched her hands into fists. "Well, maybe it's time someone  _should_  say it. I mean, we all know Will's dad is only getting sacrificed because Will knows  _me_."

"No, no, I'm sure it's not…" Willow put in, hurriedly. But she couldn't finish her sentence, as she pushed the next book into the bookshelf.

Giles shuffled, a little awkwardly. "Yes, well… it's well known that being your friend can be… really rather dangerous."

Buffy spun on Giles, as a fire rose up inside of her. "But I don't want it to be dangerous to be my friend," she said. "I'm not going to just keep accepting that people should get massacred, because they're nice to me!" She threw open her arms. "Do you know how many times I've been driven out of town by an angry mob, just because people couldn't take it, anymore? I can't let this be my life. I won't!"

Giles put his glasses back on and came up to Buffy, with a sigh. "Buffy," he said, softly, "I know you're cross, but there are things you simply cannot say — not even in anger. By all rights, Sunnydale should be a radioactive crater, uninhabitable for thousands of years. We only remain alive because…"

"I know why Sunnydale's still alive," Buffy grumbled. "To torture me." She shuffled back over to the table and sat down, in a chair. "Sometimes, I think that's the only reason anyone on Earth is still alive."

Everyone in the library went quiet.

"I just want to get close to someone, for once," Buffy said. "That's all I ask. A moment of happiness that isn't ruined by death and slaughter and torture." She shook her head. "But it's never going to happen, is it? You guys can't even meet with me, here, except by claiming we're in 'detention' together."

Willow still didn't stop putting away books into the shelves.

Xander kept pretending he was doing his homework.

"This is simply the reality of the world you live in, Buffy," Giles apologized. "I hope, someday, you can accept that." He took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Just as I have accepted that, by becoming your Watcher, I have less than a year left to live."

* * *

Buffy was in English class when she heard the announcement on the loudspeaker — commanding her to report to Principal Snyder's office.

"You know, this is the part of my job that I love the most," Snyder said, when she sat down. He picked up the letter, relishing it, as he read it aloud. "'Buffy Summers,' it says, here, 'is too happy. Please fail her at one of her major courses, and rough her up with a full-cavity drug search.'" He gestured at the two big-muscled guys standing near Buffy. "Boys."

Buffy let one of them grab her by the arms, so she could gain enough leverage to kick the other across the room, and then elbowed the first in the gut and punched him in the face.

Snyder shook his head. "And that has earned you detention, young lady." He frowned. "I wish I could say expulsion, but I am under orders to keep you in my school and make your life as thoroughly miserable as possible."

Buffy glared at him.

"Think long and hard about your future, Miss Summers," Principal Snyder said, leaning back in his chair. "Your grades are dismal. Your prospects are shot. Ostracized as you are, I don't even think you could settle down and have kids!" He crossed his arms. "So do you want to play ball, here — or are you going to keep fighting, and end your days in a prison cell?"

Buffy dropped her head, weaving her hands through her hair. She figured he was probably right about the cell. And she knew who'd be in the cell next to her.

"My future," Buffy repeated, dully. "When, in my life, have I ever  _not_  thought about my future?"

* * *

That night, Buffy flipped a vampire over her back, then spun around and staked it. Another one came at her from behind, and she kicked at it, throwing it back against a wall and then roundhousing over and staking it through the heart.

A cough, from her right.

Buffy's eyes lit up, as she turned. When she saw who it was, her face fell. "Oh. It's just you." She put away her stake. "Come here for another round of the misery blues?" She sat down on a tombstone. "Or is there something really evil out there, and you're around to help me fight it?"

He seemed a little irritated by her flippancy. "You were hoping I was Angel, weren't you?" He sighed and sat down on the tombstone next to her. "You really are useless as a teenager."

"Yeah, and you're way nicer when you're not Mr. Scottish-Bad-Attitude-Hobo-Magician!" Buffy snapped. She huffed, crossing her arms. "I like Angel. He's kind of cool, with a whole heroic good-guy mystery persona thing going on."

"You do realize he isn't the sort of person you should be dating?" the Doctor told her. "Not only are you just 16, while he's over 200 — Angel is also a very,  _very_  bad man."

Buffy stuck out her tongue. "Thanks,  _dad_."

"Don't believe me? Ask him about Drusilla." The Doctor reflected. Then, gave a small smile. "Actually,  _do_  ask him about Drusilla. I'd honestly like to know the answer to that."

"I know he did some bad stuff in the past," Buffy said, "but he's different, now. He's got a soul."

The Doctor shook his head. "This is going to end badly," he warned her, "for both of us. Angel is going to be her latest way to hurt you — and you're playing right into her hands."

Buffy didn't believe that for one second. "You're just saying that."

"Just saying that? Why would I be just saying that?" The Doctor rested his elbows on his knees. "You do realize we're both in the same boat, here, right? If you do something bone-headedly thick, we'll  _both_  suffer."

Buffy had already tuned him out, and was looking around, hoping to find Angel.

"Oh, forget it!" The Doctor got up, now looking extremely frustrated. "I can't talk to you when you're this age. It's all just boys, hair, and makeup!" He took out his sonic screwdriver. "I know she crashed my TARDIS here for a reason — probably to do something deeply unpleasant and agonizingly painful to me. So I'm going to get on with that. Probably make me feel better than spending an hour listening to you fawn over your vampire boy-toy."

He left.

Buffy dropped her head. She'd had a really hard day, today — she was hoping to get one of the nicer incarnations of the Doctor. She didn't need this.

"He seemed grumpy."

Buffy's eyes lit up at the voice, and she jumped to her feet. Here he was! Angel. She suddenly realized she was looking way too eager and not remotely cool, and she dialed back down her enthusiasm.

"He's got a reason to be, after what's been done to him," Buffy said. "I mean, I feel pretty grumpy, most of the time. Except around you." She let him take her in his arms and rested her head against his chest. "I had a dream about you last night."

Angel shot her an interested look. "A dream?"

"I watched you die," Buffy said. "It was horrible." She frowned. "Then we opened a furniture store together. That was kind of weird." She looked up at him. "You're not of the furniture-store variety, right?"

"I don't usually think much about furniture," Angel admitted. He looked down at her, pulling a fallen strand of hair out of her eyes. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Better with you," Buffy said. Her eyes went unfocused, and she frowned. "Who's… Drusilla?"

Angel suddenly went very, very still.

"I mean, if you don't want to talk about it," Buffy said, "it's fine. Just — the Doctor said I should ask."

"I didn't realize he knew," Angel muttered. He released her, and stepped away, putting his hands into his pockets. "Well, I guess if I don't tell you, he will. Drusilla was… a mistake. A horrible, evil, twisted mistake."

Buffy had figured that. "Someone you killed?"

Angel said nothing for a long moment. Then, very quietly, admitted, "Something a little worse than that."

Buffy waited for him to go on, but he didn't.

Buffy just nodded, slowly. "Okay. I get it. You don't wanna talk, and I've been having a bad enough day as is, so I'm just as happy to call this off. Just — one thing. She's not going to… show up or anything. Right?"

"I really don't know," Angel admitted. "She'll certainly recognize me, if she does." He met Buffy's eyes with his own. "Do you still love me?"

She did.

She just kept getting the feeling like… there was something she really  _was_  missing, here.

* * *

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Angel, as he saw him lingering outside the TARDIS. "Oh, look who it is!" When he noticed Angel was about to speak, he cut him off. "No, don't say anything. There's nothing you can say that'll make this any easier on either me or Elizabeth. So why don't you do us both a favor and bog off?"

The Doctor shoved the key in the lock.

Angel grabbed the Doctor by the arm, before he could enter. "What did you tell her about Drusilla?"

The Doctor paused, some of the hostility dropping from his face, replaced by curiosity. "What should I have told her?" He raised his eyebrows. "Is there even anything to tell?"

"I thought…" Angel swallowed. "I thought you already  _knew_ what I did."

"Ah, but  _this_ isn't your universe or your timeline," the Doctor said. "Is it, Angel? I certainly wish it wasn't mine."

He suddenly looked… very, very sad. And very old.

He snapped his eyes over to Angel.

"My friends," the Doctor said, "have all been massacred. Most, in front of my eyes. Sarah Jane Smith, Perri Brown, Amy Pond, my granddaughter, and countless more. My planet — once saved — has now been unsaved. Everything I ever had has been torn away from me." He looked back at his TARDIS. "And all because of you and Drusilla."

Angel had no idea what he was talking about.

"I once asked you if you were thick, or just heartless," the Doctor said, opening the door. "Now, I know you're both."

With that, he walked into the TARDIS and shut the door.

Then dematerialized.


	3. Chapter 3

Angel broke into the library, that night.

He couldn't find any records on Drusilla's death. The Sisters of Mercy convent had been destroyed, and its occupants had all been butchered, but Drusilla had never been found. As far as history was concerned, Drusilla just disappeared.

"You won't find her."

Angel jumped up from his seat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to… I'll put the books back, I just…"

Then, he froze. He recognized who this was.

A pretty woman in heels with a sleek black dress and long mahogany hair that looked like it ought to be supporting a pair of sunglasses. The sunglasses, however, weren't there.

"Drusilla, I mean," the woman continued, her heels clicking across the floor, as she walked towards Angel. "She is well and truly saved. You can't lay a finger on her. Not even if you assembled an army of the evilest, nastiest, most powerful monsters from the deepest pits of Hell." She took one final step forwards, into the illumination of the moonlight. "That's a trick I know well."

"What are you doing here?" Angel asked, warily.

She met his eyes with her own, her lips curling upwards. "Meeting you." Her voice lowered. "Killer. Murderer. Paradox-flipper to a Line Hopper."

Angel crouched into a fighting stance. "How do you know about…?"

"There's very little I don't know," the woman said. "And very little I cannot do. To you. To the Doctor. To Buffy."

"What are you planning to do to Buffy?" Angel demanded. He met her eyes with his own, his face bent into threat. "I won't let you. Whatever it is."

She circled him, inspecting him, carefully. "I love it when you do that. Pretending you have all the power. It's so cute." She stepped right up to him, so their lips were almost touching. "Tell me what you'll do to me. I could use a laugh."

Angel stepped away from her.

She pouted.

"I'll ask you, again," said Angel, "what are you planning to do to Buffy?"

"Hm… what am I planning?" The woman tapped her finger against her chin. "Wow. That's a head-scratcher. What  _am_  I planning? Am I working to an end? Or am I just torturing her and the Doctor mercilessly, because I take after my murderer — Angelus?"

Angel swallowed, hard. But he never let his sinking heart show on his face.

"Drusilla was to have been your Mona Lisa," the woman said. "But I'm your Pygmalion. You sculpted me, even as I fought back tooth and nail, even as I pulled out every trick I had, even as I, in my final desperation, tried to end my own life so I wouldn't become a monster. You chiseled me in your image. But you should have known — ivory can't possibly contain me."

For a moment, neither said anything. Silence lingered in the air.

"Listen," Angel said. "The Kalderash discovered a way to restore souls. I can help you…"

The woman laughed. "Do you really think that Kalderash trick hasn't been tried, before? Doesn't work on me — and I'm glad. I'm better this way."

She stepped back.

"Enjoy Buffy's birthday, Angel," the woman told him. "Enjoy giving her that one single moment of happiness. Because, if I have anything to do with it — that's all she'll ever get."

Then she turned, and left the library.

* * *

Angel heard the knock at his door, early the next morning. He prepared himself for the worst, expecting something truly evil waiting for him outside.

It was just Buffy.

"What's with the fang-face?" Buffy asked.

Angel morphed his face back. "Nothing, I…" He opened the door, wider. "Come in."

He figured she was safer in there, with him, than outside — at the mercy of someone whose motives were certainly nefarious and possibly vengeful.

Buffy noticed the stolen library books before Angel realized he'd left them out.

"Ovid's  _Metamorphosis_ ," Buffy said. She flipped it open to the bookmark. "Pygmalion…"

Angel snatched the book out of her hands. "Just… looking up a reference."

"What, like, a prophecy or something?" Buffy grabbed the book back from him, studying the page. "Huh. Weird prophecy, if it's got to do with this. Guy chisels statue out of ivory. Falls in love with it. Statue comes to life." She closed the book. "We gonna be beating up statues, tonight, or something?"

Angel took the book out of her hands. Hesitated, a second. Then, unwilling to meet her eyes, he sat down on the bed, beside her.

"Drusilla," Angel confessed, "was an obsession of mine. Pure, sweet, and chaste. She was everything I was not." He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees. "I killed everyone she loved, visited every mental torture on her that I could devise." He tapped the book against his hand, nervously. "She fled to a convent — and there, on the day she took her vows, I made her like me."

Buffy said nothing for a long time.

"Well, that's what I get for asking," she muttered, at last.

"Of course, that's just what  _I_ remember," Angel said. He looked down at the book in his hands. "In my timeline."

"Yeah, I know about that — the Doctor told me," Buffy said. "You're Angel, but you're from a parallel timeline in which I was called 'Elizabeth'. There's a whole Line-Hopper-gone-wrong thing going on, here, which means that the stuff that happened in your Elizabeth-timeline doesn't necessarily match what happened in my Buffy-timeline."

Angel opened the book back to that bookmark. Pygmalion. "Drusilla was my masterpiece." His eyes drifted across the page. "But in this timeline… I don't think I ever got her. I think I created something far, far worse. A monster… who wants to target you, specifically."

Buffy said nothing.

She didn't even look at him.

"I'm so sorry," Angel said. "I didn't know."

Buffy took a deep, trembling breath. "I guess… that explains why the Doctor hates you so much." She got up and began pacing the room, her hands digging into her arms.

Angel watched her with worried eyes. "You're upset."

She stopped, in the center of the room — her back to him. "I have been alone, ostracized, and alienated, my whole life," she said, her voice very low. "Every day, since she murdered her way through my fifth birthday party, my life has been hell. All because you…!"

Angel said nothing.

"You do know who she is, to the Doctor and I, right?" Buffy asked. She turned on Angel, eyes blazing. "Because it's not like she's been keeping it a secret or anything. Dumping a dead body onto my 5th birthday cake and saying, 'Hi Mom, happy birthday' — that kind of drives it home!"

"I'm sorry, Buffy, that this has happened to you," said Angel. "And I will fight, tooth and nail, to stop it. But  _I_  don't remember killing her. I promise."

Her eyes fell on the book in his hands.

Pygmalion.

The perfect statue, turned to life.

"I know," Buffy muttered. "It wasn't you. And I still want to love you. I really do." She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's just… hard, right now."

She ran off.

* * *

**1900, China**

Angelus' clothes were streaked with the blood of innocents. He watched them run around, screaming and crying and begging for mercy. He watched their terror and their horror and he soaked it in.

One person, in the crowd, wasn't terrified.

She was leaning against the side of a building, examining her nails, her mahogany hair glowing in the light of nearby burning fires. She glanced at him, her lips curling upwards at the edges.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

He came over to her, ripping someone's throat out, on the way. "Can't complain." He shoved the guy away. "You look bored."

She dropped her hands down by her side. "You and Spike might have killed the Slayer, but it's still nothing very exciting." She yawned. "Wake me when we get to the fun part."

"Think you could do better?" Angelus asked. He showed off his bloody hands. "I must have got at least 50. Maybe 100."

"Braggart." She smiled, her eyes dancing in the firelight, as she stood up straight. "Of course I can do better. You even have to ask?"

"Not seeing you doing much, at the moment," Angelus said.

She snapped her fingers.

A stream of light raced through the sky — a small asteroid. Then, in the distance, there was a huge burst of an explosion — one bigger than Angelus had ever seen, before. It was a fireball, sending a pillar of rock and debris and smoke into the air.

The gigantic boom of the explosion hit them all like a brick wall, smashing glass into shards, throwing people to the ground.

 _Everyone_  was screaming, now.

"I always wanted to smash a city with an asteroid. Shanghai — gone!" She laughed, throwing open her arms and loving the death and despair around her. "Beautiful!"

Angelus couldn't even speak for a second. His jaw had dropped open.

"I can't wait until we get to the atomic age," she said. "I think I'll nuke… Australia. For a start." She went over to Angelus and ruffled his hair. "What do you think?"

Angelus watched her face dance with glee in the middle of the destruction. Watched the ash blow through her hair and the heat from the explosion make her glow like the embers of a fire. She had annihilated more people, in a single second, than he had all evening.

He grabbed her up by the waist. "You get better and better every day."

"You ain't seen nothing, yet," she laughed. She threw her arms around his neck. "A tiny little asteroid? Just wait until 2001, when I become a full Goddess, again. Then, you'll see miracles!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Now**

Giles thudded down a steel gauntlet, wrapped in a velvet cloth, onto the table in the center of the circular library. "The Resurrection Gauntlet."

It was one of their secret meetings, when they cloaked the library in magic and pretended that no one was in there, so they could speak about important topics.

Buffy regarded it, not really that impressed. "Very heavy metal," she decided.

"Call me crazy, G-man, but… unless you're planning on killing us, sometime soon," Xander said from his seat at the far end of the table, "I'm not seeing whole lot of uses for a resurrection glove."

Willow reached out, gently testing the glove with her magic — but avoiding touching the metal, directly. "I mean, it does seem pretty powerful," she offered. Shrugged. "So, um… that's kind of cool. Maybe we could do something with it. Something like… you know…" She fidgeted, nervously. "...saving someone's dad from the monthly sacrifice?"

"Be straight with us, Giles," Buffy said, pointing at the glove. "Is there going to be major resurrected demonage coming from that thing?"

Giles lifted one of the books off the table. "Not precisely. It's just… you see…" He opened the book to the center and removed a scrap of paper that he'd tucked into its pages, "...this note was left, alongside it."

The Scoobies all gathered around, to read the note.

_Sorry I can't drop by. Ran into one of my previous incarnations — the grumpy one dressed as a magician — and thought I should remain scarce. Still. Thought this might help._

_See you yesterday,_

_The Doctor._

_PS. For the love of all that is good in this universe, do_ not _wear the resurrection gauntlet (enclosed), under_ any _circumstances._

"Oh!" Willow's eyes lit up, as she looked between the note and the glove. "I see." She inspected the glove, a little more carefully. "So this thing's really important, then. Right?"

Giles pulled his glasses off his face. "Well, all the books from the Watcher's Council do say that one must always trust the Doctor, whenever he appears or sends any sort of message — for he is a beacon of light for the Slayers, one of the only forces that might counter the great evil that has spread its hand across our world."

Xander leaned his chair back on its hind-two legs. "Since the 19th century," he qualified. "Before that, the old Watcher books all write that the Doctor is an evil alien who can't be trusted and has a magic, bewitching voice."

"Yes, well," Giles replaced his glasses, "I'd say it's rather fortunate, for us, that the Council amended their advisory. After all, he has proven himself invaluable over the years."

Buffy leaned in and studied the glove. She still didn't get why it was so important. "Can it, like, revive vampires or something?" she guessed. "Or revive dead timelines? Or… anything like that?"

Giles flipped through the book, but came up empty. "I suppose we'll work it out, eventually. I do wish the Doctor would give us more information, when he leaves us these hints." He snapped the book shut. "Still… we may be able to find out something for ourselves."

"Willy's bar?" Xander proposed.

"I'll hit up Angel, see if he knows anything," Buffy offered.

"And I can ask around at the magic shop," Willow said, with a grin. "See what they know!"

Giles nodded. "I'll continue looking through my book collection, to see what I can find. We'll meet again, later this evening, to compare notes." He blew out the candle in the center of the table, ending the magic spell. "Meeting adjourned."

* * *

Buffy went looking for Angel. Apparently — she wasn't the only one who did.

"You find him, you call me," the Ninth Doctor said to Buffy, as he finished tearing Angel's place apart and still failing to find Angel. "Because one day, Buffy Summers, I  _will_ get my hands on him. And I will destroy him for what he did to Rose."

The Ninth Doctor left.

"Right…" Buffy bit her lower lip, trying not to think too much about this. She'd kind of gotten used to the Ninth Doctor showing up, randomly, intent on hunting down Angel and killing him for whatever happened to Rose. But it did make Buffy kind of uneasy — because the Doctor wasn't generally a very killy kind of guy.

Buffy shook her head, to rid herself of the thoughts.

"It wasn't Angel," Buffy told herself, heading outside, to continue to look for Angel. "Angel's got a soul. And he's from another timeline. This is just an early enough Doctor that he's mistaken!"

She found Angel, eventually.

"Resurrection gauntlet? No, I don't think…" Angel paused. Frowned. "Except — there was a rumor of a gauntlet that could resurrect the dead in Cardiff, once. During a plague outbreak."

Buffy was intrigued. "Oh?"

"The local priest used the glove to resurrect a child," Angel recalled. "They said, when he did, Death came back with the child. Death reached out to take 13 victims, so it could manifest. But the townspeople had faith, and their faith stopped Death in its tracks."

Buffy figured she was going to win this info-contest, when she told Giles and the others what Angel had told her.

"Can I see it?" Angel asked.

* * *

Angel walked around the resurrection gauntlet, inspecting it, carefully. Then, finally, he stepped back. "No," he decided. "It's not the same one. Wrong hand."

Buffy frowned. "So… what? The Cardiff one was for a lefty demon? And this one's for a righty demon?"

"Gauntlets aren't always the same, for both hands," Angel told her. "They may have the same basic function, but little things will be different." He leaned in, looking at it more carefully. Then, hesitantly, he touched it.

Angel roared, as he skittered back, away from it. His hand was smoking.

"What…?" Buffy asked.

"Someone put a  _lot_  of mystical energy through that thing," Angel said. He shook out his hand. "Ow!"

Buffy went over to him, inspecting the hand. It was red raw, where he'd touched the glove.

She tore a strip off the bottom of her shirt and wrapped it around the hand, as a makeshift bandage. He smiled at her, gratefully.

"Nothing else you can tell us, then?" Buffy asked. "Just… lots of energy? Glove for a righty-demon? Stuff like that?"

Angel grimaced, thinking back. "I do vaguely recall something about how the resurrection gauntlet in Cardiff worked by linking people through empathy and compassion. When I touched it, I felt a spark of that. But mostly…"

He trailed off.

He looked worried.

"Mostly?" Buffy urged.

Angel closed his eyes, a pensive look on his face. "When I touched it… for a moment… I got this shudder. Something that made me remember a demon I'd heard of — one from way before my time. The Judge." He opened his eyes, again. "But that can't be right. The Judge was hacked to pieces long ago."

Buffy cringed, looking between Angel and the resurrection gauntlet. "You know… it is a  _resurrection_  gauntlet…"

* * *

The woman with the mahogany hair — but no sunglasses, anymore — watched, as three vampires rolled in her latest acquisition. It was a plethora of tiny wooden boxes, fastened together to form the shape of a large man.

"Just as it looked, when Torchwood found it," she said. "Perfect." She turned to the vampires who'd wheeled it inside, and gestured at the raised stage platform. "Put it there, and then fetch me Dawn Summers. I'm finally ready for her."


	5. Chapter 5

**1902**

She awoke out of a dream, breathing hard, hearts thudding in her chest. She clung to the sheets around her otherwise naked body, her mahogany hair spilling across bare shoulders.

She had a name on her lips. A name bathed in a thousand tears.

She wrapped the sheets around her and got up, heading towards the window. The moon was shining, the stars twinkling. She stared out, at the night sky, remembering her dream, still partially living in it — and yet, here she was, in the real world, too.

"Dawn Summers," she breathed, into the night air.

The man who still lay in bed, also naked, twitched. He reached for her. When he felt her gone, he gave a soft, heartless laugh.

"Come back to bed," he called. Stretched. "Now that I'm awake, I think I've got myself an appetite."

She looked back at him, and the dream dropped away from her. She rolled her eyes, as she stood up. "You do realize that, until 2001, I'm still stuck in a mortal body?"

Angelus' eyes glowed, his fangs protruding. "A Time Lord body. Full of the sweetest blood there is."

She sat beside him, on the bed, and offered him her hand — her eyes watching him, carefully.

He kissed the back of it.

She smiled, approving of the gesture.

"All right — but just a nip, Angelus," she warned. Her eyes twinkled. "And only because I like you."

He turned over her hand and dug his fangs, greedily, into the underside of her wrist.

She didn't let him drink long. She never did.

"And how does my Prince of Darkness like his reward for eliminating that pesky soul of mine?" she asked, as she yanked her wrist away. She leaned in closer to him. "Invulnerability. Immunity to sunlight. Instant regenerative powers. Is it all you ever wanted?"

He grabbed her by the waist and dragged her towards him, kissing her, deeply, as he rolled her across the bed and wound up on top of her. "You are so much better," Angelus said, "than I ever dared imagine."

Her eyes flashed. "Oh, I know. I always am."

Before he knew what was happening to him, she flipped them, so that he was now the one pinned down against the bed, and she was staring at him with those cold, merciless, intelligent eyes. Her mahogany hair tickled his chest, as she leaned down, towards him.

"All hail the King of the Vampires," she whispered. "The Prince of Darkness. The right-hand of the Goddess." She smiled, her eyes glittering. "For, although mighty, he is nothing next to her."

"All hail you, little Say-say," Angelus replied.

They came together, then, lips locking, hands roaming, each one striving for dominance over the other.

"Bad, bad Angel, using the name of the one you murdered," she whispered, but she was smiling. "I'm going to have to pay you back for that."

* * *

**Now**

When Buffy came home, she found her house had been ransacked. "Mom?" She ran through the house, frantic. "Mom?!"

Her mom was crying in her room, bowing before the shrine to the Goddess.

"Mom, what…?" Buffy asked.

Her mother looked up at her through tear-stained eyes. "Oh, Buffy. Don't you get it? There's no point in rescuing her. The Goddess has always made it very clear, from the moment Dawn was born, that Dawn is hers – and always has been. The Key to the Final Resurrection. Even if you rescue her, the way you did last year — the Goddess will just reach out and take her away, again. We have no hope."

Buffy felt her blood go cold.

She'd gone through this, last year, when Dawn was kidnapped. Angel had helped Buffy fight her way to rescue and free Dawn, before anything too serious had happened – but Buffy should have known that wouldn't stop anything. The Goddess would keep trying.

"You didn't just hand Dawn over, again, right?" Buffy asked. "Please tell me you didn't…!"

"The Goddess is the only thing keeping this town from being a radioactive wasteland," Buffy's mom insisted, standing up and putting her hands on Buffy's arms. "We can't defy her, sweetie. Whenever we have, it's only ever led to tragedy."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't care."

Buffy's mom clamped her hands more tightly around Buffy's arms. "Buffy, please…!"

"She isn't a Goddess!" Buffy shouted, tearing herself out of her mother's grasp. "She's the evil remains of someone who was murdered a long time ago. And I'm not letting her do the same to my sister. The cycle stops, here!"

She turned and ran.

Angel noticed the hubbub, and came back. "What…?" he asked, as Buffy grabbed him by the hand and yanked him after her.

"To save Dawn," Buffy said. "Come on."

* * *

**June, 1997 (the last time Dawn Summers was taken)…**

Dawn hadn't known where she was, at first.

It looked like a cave, but the walls glittered with gold and jewels and diamonds. She was lying on a lavish canopy bed, wearing an expensive-looking white gown and no shoes. She sat up, looking around herself.

A loud, piercing shriek cracked the silence, around her.

Then came another, from the opposite direction.

Dawn put her hands over her ears, as she heard shriek after shriek surround her, the sound making her shiver, deep down inside, and making her head throb. It was like some gigantic microwave was targeting her brain and melting it down into a puddle of goo, under the noise…

"Out!" came a shout, as the door burst open. "Stop it. Now!"

The shrieks all stopped, at once. Instead, they were replaced by silence… and the soft pattering of footsteps. Dawn kept her eyes shut and her hands over her ears. She didn't know where she was or what was going on, but it was obviously nowhere good.

Buffy would rescue her.

She knew that Buffy would.

"Egwiltor demons," a smooth voice explained. "They sing at a special sonic frequency that tends to hurt the human brain. If arranged in the proper choir, they could even burn out parts of the brain, completely. And I  _do_ have the proper choir."

Dawn didn't move.

The hand that someone rested on her shoulders was surprisingly gentle.

Dawn opened her eyes, peeking out. She hadn't been wrong about the voice — it was the Goddess, sitting on the bed, beside her. The Goddess, with her long mahogany hair, her beautiful face, her piercing eyes. But there was something weird about her, now. Something… off.

It wasn't until a tear rolled down her cheek that Dawn realized… the Goddess was crying.

"What…?" Dawn began.

The Goddess looked away, wiping away the tear, hastily. "Nothing." She stood up, securing her a look of cold indifference back onto her face, again. "I've decided to take matters into my own hands. My mother will be in the hands of the Master, soon enough — and I can't chance letting anything happen to you while she's there. I need you. You're the Key."

The Goddess' voice almost broke, on the last two sentences.

"Hey," said Dawn, dropping off the bed and walking over. She was trying to act brave, but she was still terrified and screaming, inside. "It's… it's okay. Whatever you're crying about…"

"I am not crying!" The Goddess turned on Dawn, her eyes flashing, her voice thunderous, her face furious.

Dawn cowered back.

The Goddess grabbed her by the arm. "You are a thing!" she shouted. "The means of my Final Resurrection! The tool by which I shall shed this mortal coil and become a true goddess, once again! You mean nothing to… to…"

But Dawn could see her struggling to hold back another tear.

For a second, the Goddess just stared at her, unable to say a word.

"You… you've been telling me I'm the Key, ever since I was born," Dawn said, trying to be braver than she felt. "You said I was going to die, to bring glory to the heavens. Are… you going to kill me?"

The Goddess didn't answer.

She looked so sad, so devastated…

"Oh, this is stupid!" the Goddess said, through her teeth. She yanked at her hair, her eyes wild. "Of course I need you to die! You are the ultimate sacrifice — the last bit of Key that I need to stabilize everything, push myself into true divinity, and break free from the mortal realms. I will breathe in your death, and it will give me back every power I once had! So why…?!"

She paused.

Then stared at Dawn with dark, piercing eyes.

"Every night, since 1875, you have plagued my dreams," the Goddess said. "I have watched you die in so many ways, over and over again — most of them caused by me. But every time I crushed your life from you… your pain seared through my mind like fire. Your every terror flooded me with fear. You screamed, and it made me want to scream. I  _became_  you as I killed you, and it just… it isn't…!"

Dawn didn't know what was going on.

But she had the feeling this was getting into a really weird area, here.

"When I tracked down Ben Wilkinson," the Goddess said, "and brain-sucked him, to reunite the two pieces of myself… I took one look at him, and I  _hated_  him for what he tried to do to you. The bastard made you trust him, and then turned you over… to…!"

Yeah.  _Really_  weird area, here.

"Right now, I should be burning out your brain," the Goddess said, "so your blood can become my salvation. But every time I look at you, I know that, if you were to die — I would tear apart the whole universe to get you back."

"So… you're  _not_  going to burn out my brain and kill me to make yourself a full goddess, after all?" Dawn asked, far more hopeful.

The Goddess just closed her eyes, as another tear dropped down her cheek.

Then, finally, she turned and left.

Buffy arrived, a short time later, to rescue her sister.

"It was so scary Buffy and it was just so scary and I thought I was gonna die and then I was all like trying to be brave but just that whole time I thought I was going to…!" Dawn said.

Buffy shushed her.

"It's okay," Buffy said. "It's okay. You're going to be fine. I won't let her hurt you — you know that, right?"

That was when Dawn's eyes lit up. "Yeah, but… she can't. Like, she wants to, but I'm just super cool or something, so it's like, you know."

Wow, Dawn needed to grow up and learn some vocabulary. This whole preteen thing was making her really incoherent. "Huh?"

"She was all with the can't killy stuff!" Dawn rolled her eyes. "Come on, Buffy! Don't you get it?"

Buffy blinked, trying to figure out what the hell Dawn was talking about. "Wait, wait, Dawn. Are you saying that the Goddess  _did_  try to kill you, and she  _couldn't_?"

Dawn nodded, with a beam of pure excitement. "Yuh-huh! She went all weepy!"

"What?!" Buffy couldn't even imagine that. "Like, tears kind of weepy?"

"Yuh-huh!"

Wow. Buffy would have paid good money to see Miss Evil-Hell-Goddess go serious cry-o-rama over Dawn. That sounded awesome. She could probably sell tickets!

"Let's just get you out of here," Buffy decided, grabbing her by the hand and spinning back around. "Angel's guarding the door. Come on!"

* * *

**Now**

"Four months," the Goddess announced, her back to Dawn, as the girl was led into the auditorium.

Dawn figured the only reason the Goddess wasn't facing her, right now, was to stop herself from coming down with a serious case of the weepies.

"When I had a soul," the Goddess went on, "and was trapped on Earth, in 1875, I spent three months running. He had created an army from Hell, itself, full of unimaginable, impossibly strong monsters, all chasing me down to rid me of my soul — but I never stopped running. I never stopped fighting. I never gave up — to the bitter end." She traced her hand down the zigzags of the wooden man-sized chest in front of her. "When he caught me, he tortured me for another month — until I was incoherent."

The Goddess clenched her hands into fists.

"Except that was a lie," she said. "It wasn't the torture that was making me incoherent. It was  _her_. Seo. She used the torture as a shield, to lock things out of her mind — or even wipe things from her memory, entirely."

Dawn really felt like she was missing something.

What the heck was this Goddess lady talking about?!

"Three months of running! One more of torture!" The Goddess spun around to face Dawn, her eyes blazing. "What did he  _think_ Seo would do with four months of time on her hands? Sit around twiddling her thumbs?!" She descended down the steps from the raised stage on which the man-sized box-thing had been placed, and walked towards Dawn. "Seo loved her family so much. Do you really think she'd have known, for four months, that she was going to lose her soul — and do  _nothing_ to protect them?!"

Oh.

Oh, wait! This was starting to make sense.

"She… tricked you," Dawn realized. "She implanted stuff into your head to protect us, and then wiped your memory so you wouldn't know it was there. That's why you keep being all with the mega-weirdness dream things! That's why you go all weepy when I'm…!"

The Goddess backhanded her across the face.

Dawn nearly went flying, with the impact.

Then, oddly enough, the next thing she knew, the Goddess was cradling her in her arms, tears running down her cheeks.

"It tore me apart when you died, Aunt Dawn," the Goddess whispered. "How can I let you die, again?"

Then she blinked.

And she shoved Dawn away from her, suddenly horrified. The Goddess jumped to her feet, and gave a frustrated scream, stomping on the ground so hard that the entire auditorium shook. "That  _witch_! That  _harpy_! Brainwashing me to make sure I couldn't kill you! Brainwashing me to…!" She shook with rage. "Seo knew you were upset that you were just made of corrupted memories and matter transmutation. Get it, Key? She knew I'd hunt down the Monks! She brainwashed me to create you, properly, from the moment you were born — with no implanted memories needed!" The Goddess grabbed Dawn by the shoulders and shook her. "That sanctimonious piece of filth! Not content with just ruining my plans to kill you — she brainwashed me into making you  _happy_!"

Dawn stared, confused. "Uh… wha?"

The Goddess stopped shaking Dawn, and just looked at her. The Goddess hands became gentle. Another tear trickled down her cheek, and, for a second, she looked almost… kind.

Then, in a rage, the Goddess shoved Dawn away from her. "Argh!" She turned around and raced back up the stairs, onto the stage. "I am tearing you, Seo, and all your brainwashing out of my head! For good!" she shouted, grabbing a final wooden box out of the hands of a sack-clothed, pimple-faced minion standing on the stage. "Because — newsflash, Seo! The dead are supposed to  _stay dead_!"

The Goddess shoved the final wooden box into place, completing the man-shaped structure. It seared with energy, as each box opened.


	6. Chapter 6

"Nothing on any resurrection gloves," Xander reported in, later that night. "But something is definitely rotten in the state of the underworld."

Willow nodded. "That's what I was getting, too. Something about 'the Judge'."

Giles frowned, thinking. He raced over to the bookshelf and pulled down a volume. Flipped through it. "Ah, yes, I see. The Judge." His frown deepened. "Oh, dear."

Willow and Xander made gestures for him to go on.

"Yes, well, it appears that the Judge was a demon brought forth, many centuries ago, to rid the world of goodness," Giles explained. "He separated the righteous from the wicked, and burned down the righteous." He flipped the page. "And, it appears… he cannot be killed."

"Cannot be killed?" Willow asked.

"An army was sent to dismember him," Giles explained. "They scattered the pieces of his body across the entire world."

Xander nodded. "And three guesses as to which angry Hell Goddess has gathered them all up, again."

"Why, though?" Willow asked. "I mean, we've all met the Goddess — you can't  _not_ , if you're Buffy's friend. There's no compassion in her. Nothing even remotely human."

Giles put the book down, and took off his glasses. "Yes, well… I rather suspect that the Judge is not for her."

He put his glasses back on his nose. A worried look had passed across his face.

"Don't leave us hanging, G-man," Xander said. "Make with the bad news."

Giles skimmed his eyes across his bookshelves. "For some reason, all history books across California seem to omit certain details from their histories. But I do recall, from some of the histories I read back in England, that Angel was, once, very close to the Goddess. Intimate, you could say."

"You mean, the Goddess wants the Judge for…?" Willow asked, nervously.

Giles nodded.

Xander jumped to his feet. "We gotta warn the Buff-meister. This is sounding serious."

* * *

The lumbering blue demon, primordial and clothed in black leather, combined into a single strong creature, as he stepped from the boxes and emerged onto the raised platform. He tested out his hands, clenching and unclenching his fist.

"So much stink," the Judge said, surveying the crowd, around him — all the demonic and vampiric creatures gathered there, beneath the Goddess' gaze. "I can smell the reek of human feeling and goodness, all around us." He gestured at one of the vampires, nearby. "Him. Bring me him."

The Goddess pointed at him, and the others, nearby, raced to do her bidding.

"So much humanity, in this one," the Judge said, surveying the vampire. "So much fear, so much jealousy, so much love." He shoved his hand onto the vampire's chest. "So much to cleanse."

The vampire screamed, as the hand seared through his flesh. His skin caught fire, and he screamed, again… until, finally, he collapsed into a pile of ash.

"I'll have to refine that," the Goddess muttered, crossing her arms. "No point in burning the bad bits, along with the good." She waved a hand at one of the other vampires, nearby. "I can do that, myself, already."

The vampire suddenly howled, as her protection against radiation suddenly vanished. He keeled over, clawing at the air, but the radiation levels were far too high. He died, his body bursting into ash and dust.

The Judge turned on the Goddess, examining her. "You…" He smiled, impressed. "You are a thing of beauty."

"And don't you forget it," said the Goddess. She beamed, running a hand through her mahogany hair. "Radiant, beautiful, awe-inspiring. And, as soon as I can find a way to tweak you… you'll make me so much better."

"There is no improvement needed," said the Judge. "You are clean." He turned to the rest of the auditorium. Then, his eyes fell on Dawn, and they narrowed.

Dawn froze.

She tried not to hyperventilate.

"You," said the Judge, stepping down from the stage, "are the most human of them all. I sense a…" He wrinkled his nose, in disgust. "...compassion, in her."

Dawn struggled to break free, as he reached out a hand, towards her.

The Goddess caught his hand in hers, then kicked him back. "Not her. I need her." She stepped in front of Dawn, her eyes turning menacing. "Lay one finger on her, and I'll send you back to where you came from."

The Judge blinked. He put a hand up to his head, as if checking to make sure it was working. "I don't understand. That isn't possible."

"I brought you back," the Goddess said, her voice cold, "to fix me. Not to do anything to her." Her voice lowered. " _No one_  hurts her."

"I can hear the compassion in your voice," the Judge said, peering at her. "I can see the love in your eyes. Yet, I sense no humanity from you. You are clean."

The Goddess clenched her hands into fists. "Clean?!" She pointed at Dawn. "I can't stop sobbing, whenever I see her! Does that sound 'clean', to you?" Her voice lowered. "If there is a single spark of Seo left, inside of me, she'll swamp me with goodness, one day, and I'll get everything back. I need her  _gone_. Now!"

The Judge reached out, thrusting his hand onto her chest — between her hearts.

Nothing happened.

"This has never happened, before," the Judge said, taking away his hand. "It doesn't make sense."

The Goddess threw him across the auditorium, her eyes burning.

"It's as if… you are inside my mind," the Judge realized, pondering it through, as he got up from the floor. "A mental link. While that link exists, I can see nothing but the evil within you — and cannot burn out all that is good."

"A mental…?!" The Goddess froze, in the middle of the auditorium. Her face went pale. "No. No, the resurrection gauntlet was destroyed. I know I destroyed it. I battled the Doctor over a pit of fire, when he tried to take it. It is gone!"

"Yet, the link still exists," the Judge said, walking back towards her. "I can feel it."

The Goddess began to pace, hands in her hair, thinking, furiously. "The link is still there. But of course it is. It always was. Stupid! Stupid! When Suzie almost killed Gwen, Torchwood smashed the glove to pieces — but the link  _still_  didn't vanish. How else was Angelus able to grab the gauntlet out of time and use that link to burn away my soul?" She gave a long, slow sigh. "No. There has to be a solution. Seo can't have beaten me at this! She thought she was going to become a vampire; she didn't know about the glove. That means she didn't have months between the moment she saw the glove and the moment she died — just thirty minutes. Whatever plan she constructed, there must be a flaw in it."

Dawn was taking mental notes on everything.

This was starting to get pretty interesting!

"In the meantime," said the Goddess, turning back to the Judge, "I need you to fry some people for me. It's my mother's birthday, tomorrow, and I've got something of a tradition on those. One death for every year of her age." She grinned. "Like birthday candles."

The Judge nodded. "It will be done."

One of the vampires stepped forwards. "And… Angel?"

The Goddess snapped her head over to him. "Hm?" She stepped forwards, analyzing the vampire, curiously. "Oh, I thought I recognized you. Of course. Razor. The vampire who wiped his own kind from the face of the planet."

Razor blinked, confused.

"We just thought," said another vampire — Mr. Trick — "that Angel was the whole reason you wanted the Judge. You know — King of the Vampires? Right hand of the Goddess?"

"We figured… you wanted him back," Razor agreed.

The Goddess reflected on this, a small smile illuminating her face. "The return of Angelus. Now there's an idea." She punched through Razor's skull, and the bone shattered under the impact. "Unfortunately, one I've already had. Idiot."

Razor's corpse tumbled to the ground, before turning to dust and blowing away.

The Judge looked between where Razor had once been and where the Goddess still stood. "You take revenge for things that have now never happened. You feel pain for what he did to your father — but can now never do."

"What?!" The Goddess turned on the Judge. "How can you…?!"

"As I have said — we are linked," said the Judge. "I can see the shadows of your thoughts. They are almost… human."

"I killed Razor because he was an idiot," the Goddess snapped. She pointed at where he'd once been. "In a different timeline, he wiped out all the vampires on Earth in a single, bone-headed act of stupidity. He fed vampires Time Lord blood without taking any precautions. He did not deserve to live."

The Judge said nothing. He just wrinkled his nose, as if there were a foul smell in his nostrils.

Yet, again, when he touched the Goddess… nothing happened. Nothing burned.

"I have destroyed my father's life!" the Goddess shouted. "I have murdered his companions in front of him, redirected his TARDIS so I could torture him, and I have hounded and plagued him across every incarnation. I am not doing  _any_ of this to help him!"

The Judge thought for a moment. Then, slowly he nodded. "You are right," he said. "You really  _do_  need the humanity burned out of you — and soon. Otherwise, Glorificus, I fear your condition may be terminal."

The Goddess glared at him, a few seconds more. Her whole body was shaking. Her lower lip was trembling.

Then she gestured at the vampires restraining Dawn. "Bring the Key," she commanded, turning to head out. "I'll find a way to…"

She stopped, as she realized… there were no vampires restraining Dawn, anymore. In fact, there was no Dawn Summers, anymore, at all.

Someone had broken in, while the Goddess had been talking to the Judge, and had snatched the girl.

"Get after the Key!" the Goddess shouted at those around her. "You idiots!"

* * *

"Got her!" Angel said, racing out of the building with Dawn in tow. "You have the explosives ready?"

Buffy raised up the detonator. "If you can't Slay 'em, blow 'em up. That's my motto."

She hit the detonator.

The building behind them was immersed in a gigantic fireball explosion, as the windows and walls and doors shattered and splintered. Angel, Dawn, and Buffy ducked down to shelter from the shrapnel.

"Do you think that killed the Goddess?" Dawn asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "World War III didn't. Why would a bunch of TNT?" She helped Dawn get back to her feet. "I know the word on the street is that the Goddess still has a mortal body until the Final Resurrection ceremony — but if it's true, I sure haven't seen it."

"Probably killed the Judge, though," said Angel. He brushed some of the ash out of Dawn's hair. "Come on, kid. Let's get you home, where it's safe."

* * *

Later that night, Buffy and Angel were alone, together, at Angel's place.

"Thanks," said Buffy, sitting down on the bed, beside him. "For Dawn. I just… I can't imagine what I'd do, if I ever lost her."

Angel said nothing for a while, resting his elbows on his knees. "I thought you were still mad at me."

"I guess I'm bad at staying mad at people," said Buffy. She shivered, suddenly feeling very cold. "Whoa. Temperature drop."

Angel put an arm around her. But, of course, he was a vampire — so his arm was just as cold as the rest of the apartment.

Buffy kissed him, instead.

Then, they did a lot more than just kissing.

* * *

Thunder crashed, in the distance. Rain began to pour. Buffy slept beside Angel, peacefully. Angel was not peaceful. He cringed, with a sudden burning pain.

Thunder crashed, again.

"No," Angel said, as he struggled to dress and run away — far as he could from Buffy. "Oh, no."

A minute later, he was running through the street, frantic to get as far away as he could. He could feel it happening, and knew what was coming. It terrified him.

He dropped to the street, and screamed, his head in his hands.

A woman stepped over to him, looking concerned. "Are you okay? Do you need some help?"

Angel stopped screaming. He kept his eyes fixed on the street. "No. No, the pain is all gone, now."

Then, suddenly, he leapt to his feet, and turned on the woman, his fangs bared.

He stopped, when he recognized her.

The woman laughed in his face. "No help needed from me, then." She leaned in and grinned. "One night early. I love an Angel who shows initiative." She played with his hair. "Or is it Angelus, now?"

"You do realize, of course, that I don't remember you?" Angelus commented, looking her over, curiously. "As far as I'm concerned, I broke Drusilla. I never even met you."

The Goddess grabbed him up and kissed him. Lightning flashed around them, as the kiss lingered — and Angelus got the unnerving feeling that she was controlling every bolt.

They pulled apart, and it began to rain — except around the two of them. They, alone, remained perfectly dry.

"I think you'll find," the Goddess whispered, "that you've gotten a much needed upgrade."


	7. Chapter 7

**1959**

She watched, with Angelus, as the world burned around them.

Mushroom clouds ballooned over cities like elegant, floating jellyfish, bobbing through the water. The sky turned dark with soot and debris. The heat and pressure from the blasts raced across the dust, faster than the speed of sound, crushing and vaporizing all within its path.

"Happy 84th anniversary of your resurrection," said Angelus, his arms wrapped around her. "Goddess."

"I did promise a fireworks display better than any other," the Goddess reflected. She laughed, turning around to face him. "The end of the world! It's almost as beautiful as me — don't you think?"

"Your plans are more beautiful than anything else in the whole universe," Angelus said, leaning in closer to her, "except for this — what I've made you."

He began to devour her lips in his, reaching to undo the snaps on her dress, but she pulled away and smacked him, lightly, across the face.

"No carnality, tonight," the Goddess scolded him. "The human animals are all getting in their end-of-the-world grunts, like the filthy mutts they are. We, on the other hand, are above them. Tonight, we watch the world burn. Tomorrow, we watch the survivors die." Her eyes twinkled in the light of the bomb-blast fires. "Then, when they're desperate and dying and scared, when society is broken and no one thinks there's any future left — I appear, and offer them a miracle."

"And me?" Angelus asked. "Where do  _I_ fit into this plan of yours?"

She laughed, and smoothed down his hair. "You? My Vampire King?" She straightened his tie. "You know how much it hurts me when people refuse to tell me how beautiful and divine I am." She pouted. "You know how much it makes me suffer."

"Your evil, cruel hearts are more beautiful than the deepest pits of Hell, oh Goddess," Angelus said.

"And don't you ever forget it," the Goddess said. She took his hand in hers, and whispered, "True divinity is fear and awe, not just love. I will make them love, you will give them fear. I will give them hope, you will give despair." She swept him up into a ballroom dance, twirling him around the room. "And then, we switch."

He caught her meaning, adjusting his grip on her so he was in the lead, waltzing her around the room and letting her skirts ruffle with every turn.

"Fear," the Goddess said, "love and awe. We give one, then the other, then the other. We inspire, we bestow favor — until we grow bored and take it away. This is what it means to be a god."

Angelus grinned wider and wider, with every step. "You know, you might just be the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Might be? I  _am_." The Goddess gave a fake pout. "Or are you still sulking over Drusilla?"

"She would have been a thing of beauty," Angelus reflected. He twirled the Goddess in his arms. "But you — you're a masterpiece."

"I am no mere masterpiece, Angelus." The Goddess adjusted her grip, so she was leading him, as they continued to dance. "A masterpiece shows beauty in imperfection — but I have no imperfection. I am perfect."

The bombs created a strange sort of rhythm. The anti-aircraft missiles, too. And she, so enchanting and bewitching in the dim light of the destruction, kept her step perfectly in time with the death that surrounded them.

There wasn't a day that went by, Angelus reflected, that he didn't thank his lucky stars that he'd lost Drusilla. Because this was so much better than anything he could ever have imagined.

The door burst open, and Spike came running into the room.

"Bloody Hell! You're dancing?!" Spike pointed out the door. "Have you seen what's happening, out there? It's the end of everything!"

The Goddess laughed.

"It's what you always said you wanted, Spike," Angelus reminded him. "End of the world. We're living the dream."

Spike coughed. "That was rhetoric. Tough guy talk. The type of thing you say in a pub, over a pint of blood when you're gambling for kittens." He advanced on them, shoving an accusing finger at the Goddess. "It's supposed to be for  _show_ , you bloody git!"

Angelus broke apart from the Goddess, stepped away so Spike's rage at her wouldn't hurt  _him_. He took in the two of them, with a laugh. He looked like he'd honestly enjoy watching the two of them in a no-hands-barred fistfight.

"Don't just stand there, laughing," Spike snapped, turning on Angelus. "You've been with her every step of the way. You're loving this!" His eyes narrowed. "If everyone on Earth dies, you thick sod, what do you think we're going to eat?"

The Goddess walked back to Angelus, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm not killing  _everyone_ , Spike. I'll save a few hundred million, by the end." She toyed with Angelus' hair. "And I think the blasts will kill off most of your competition — don't you? So you won't have to share with any other vampires."

Spike grew even angrier, at this. His fists were shaking.

"You see?" Spike said, to Angelus. "You see what she's doing? It's not just them she's killing. It's us. And the demons. And everyone else! Both underworld and overworld. She thinks  _nothing_  of us, Angelus. How long before she grows bored and wipes out every bloody vampire on the planet?"

"Well," Angelus glanced back at her, with lust in his eyes, "I'll just have to make sure she doesn't get bored."

She slapped him, lightly, to remind him — not tonight. Then, to Spike, "Angelus revived me, 84 years ago. He gave me back my divinity, freed me from those shackles I called my 'soul'. I would never kill him." She smiled at Spike, but there was a hint of a threat, behind it. "Worship me, and I could make you the same offer."

Spike stepped backwards, holding up his hands. "Oh, no. Don't you go roping me into this. I'm out!" To Angelus, he added, "She's a bloody maniac, you know. And, someday, you'll see it, too."

He turned, and ran off.

"I should do something about him," said the Goddess, frowning. "Shame. He was so good to my mother. It would have been nice to use that for my own purposes."

Angelus disentangled himself from her arms. "I'll talk some sense into him," he assured her. "You'll have your perfect revenge on her — complete with Spike and everything. I promise."

Then he ran after him.

* * *

"Spike, Spike, Spike," Angelus laughed, when he caught up with him. "Relax. There's nothing to worry about. I've got this all wrapped up." He gestured around himself. "We end the world. We become gods. Then, the moment before she becomes a full goddess, in 2001 — we kill her. And there'll be nothing she can do to stop us."

Spike spun around. "Sod off. You're a bloody fool, if you believe that."

Angelus crossed his arms. "A fool, am I?" He grinned. "I captured, tortured, and destroyed one of the greatest forces for good that this universe has ever known. Now, she's handing me the Earth on a silver platter. How am I a fool?"

Spike shook his head. "You can't see it?" He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "She fed you her own blood. Made you invulnerable. Unkillable. Undefeatable. Made you powerful beyond your wildest dreams."

"Exactly," Angelus said.

"Which means," Spike continued, "that she's had your number, mate, since day bloody one!" He thrust a finger in Angelus' face. "You're already dead. You just don't know it, yet. One of these days, she'll just quirk an eyebrow at you, and make you disappear in a puff of ash."

Angelus' confidence faltered, a little.

He vaguely remembered her first incarnation… saying something about his being irrelevant, because he was going to be erased…

But that had been a lie, surely. Hadn't it? Even the Kalderash couldn't touch him, back in 1898 — and he'd massacred them for even trying. No one could touch him, anymore. No one could ever find a way to get rid of him. He knew that.

...didn't he?

"You think you're the one in charge?" Spike shook his head. "Get your head out of your ass, you clod. She's always got a plan. Always a step ahead of everyone else. I've seen her buttering you up, playing on your vanity and your greed and your desire for power — and I know where it'll end." He turned around, to head off. "Your death became assured the moment you stole her soul, Angelus. It's only a matter of time."

* * *

She was at the window, watching the world burn, when he entered, again.

He tiptoed towards her, reaching for her, as if to draw her into an embrace. But her body was still mortal — and he carefully concealed the knife blade he had in his hand, as he reached up to slit her throat.

In a second, the beads of her necklace yanked themselves off her neck and wrapped around his hand, holding him in a vice. He snarled, and bit down, hard, on her jugular, determined to drain the life out of her as quickly as possible.

He jerked himself free, the first moment he could, and stumbled back, gagging.

"You do realize, of course, that I know exactly what you two boys have been talking about?" the Goddess said, without looking back at him. She raised up a small glass vial with a skull and crossbones on it, shaking it at him. "Harmless to me — but it'll kill a vampire in… minute or two, tops. Even a so-called 'invulnerable' one, like you."

Angelus fell to the ground, hands around his throat, trying to throw up the stuff.

"And then there's the nuclear radiation," the Goddess continued, still keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "Deadly, even to a vampire. I've been shielding you from it, with my divine powers. I could always lift that protection."

"H...help…!" Angelus tried to say. He writhed, as pain flared through him.

"Sorry, no cure, I'm afraid," said the Goddess, shaking the vial, again. "You drink it, you pay the price." She paused. "Well, except…"

"Please!" Angelus begged.

"There is one thing that'll burn it right out of your system. A nice little power I stole from Magda — that Kalderash witch — just before I killed her." The Goddess turned, smiling with a cold, cruel smile. "Goodbye Angelus."

She snapped her fingers.

Angelus screamed.

Then, suddenly, a light glowed in his eyes, and he curled up, screaming even harder, as a torrent of guilt and pain and loss crushed him beneath their weight.

"The old Angel felt so much pain over what he'd done," the Goddess reflected. "But he did nothing, compared to you. And I'm hitting you with his revelation, all at once — as time struggles to restore what was broken. How much guilt are you feeling now, Angel? How much pain? How much torment? I'll bet the guilt burns through your veins. I bet you'd drink a hundred thousand vats of poisoned blood, just to take it away."

"Please…!" Angel begged, reaching out to her. "Please! No more!"

She stepped over and knelt down, beside him. "Sh… sh…" She rubbed a hand across his back, tenderly. "Poor, poor Angel. You helped me wipe out billions of people, and now, I've choked you with that guilt. Can you hear them screaming, Angel? Does their suffering make your tender little heart ache?"

Tears began to run down Angel's face. "Stop…"

She tilted his head up, to look at her. "Do you see, now, what I am? Do you understand what you've created?" She leaned down so she was right in his face, their noses almost touching. "I am eternal. I am divine. I control everything."

Angel trembled, before her.

"Love me," the Goddess whispered. "Stand in awe of me. And — more than anything — fear me, Angelus." She snapped her fingers. "Because I can take everything away from you, whenever I choose."

In a flash, all the guilt and pain and torment disappeared. His soul disappeared.

His fear did not.

"Love, awe, and fear," Angelus repeated, as he met her gaze. He was starting to get the horrible feeling that Spike had been right — about everything.

She had given him more power than he had ever thought possible.

But she had only given him what she could take away, again, at her discretion.

She smiled at him. "Good." Then pat down his hair, affectionately. "Now, what say you find some way to make up for this little indiscretion of yours… and find some better way to please me?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Now**

"…was seudophenic!"

"Sorry, do you mean — schizophrenic?" Giles asked, pulling his glasses off his face, and squinting at Dawn. He took a second, to digest all this. "Are you implying, Dawn, that when the Goddess captured you, she appeared to have some sort of… split personality?"

"That's how she acted," Dawn said, with a shrug. "You know… weepy and then roar angry and stuff."

Buffy sighed, dropping into the chair beside Dawn. "Use  _words_ , Dawn. Like, actual English."

"I am using words!" Dawn huffed, crossing her arms. "She was all Hell Goddess one moment and then she was all like, 'I can't let you die', and then she got really angry and asked the Judge to burn the human-stuff out of her head."

A flash of hope appeared in Giles' eyes. "But that's… that's…!" He put his glasses back on, leaning down to Dawn. "That's incredible!"

"I think that's more bipolar than schizophrenic," Willow pointed out, sitting on Giles' sofa.

Xander shrugged. "Hey, call it what you will, but it sounds, to me, like Miss Evil Hell Goddess  _might_ be getting an attack of the flowers-candy-and-fluffy-puppies syndrome."

"Yeah! She is! And she was all majorly sulk about it, too," Dawn continued. "She got really mad because Seo wasn't just thumb-twiddle and whateverness — she wanted to protect stuff."

Buffy poked Dawn, to remind her… seriously. Words. Actual English words. It was important.

"What? I'm telling them!" Dawn insisted, swatting her sister away. She brushed back her hair. "Okay, so before the Goddess got her soul all burned away…"

"Sorry, you mean the Goddess' soul wasn't stolen or lost or sent back to the ether — it was actually burned away?" Giles interrupted.

Willow gasped. "Burned! Like… what the Judge does!"

Dawn glared at the others for interrupting her. "Before the Goddess got her soul all burned away," she continued, pointedly, "she said she ran for, like, months, and then was tortured and whatever. Yeah. Four months, she said, she'd been running or getting tortured — and so Seo could…"

"Seo?" Xander interrupted.

"My daughter's name," Buffy dismissed. She pat Dawn on the shoulder. "Go on."

"So," Dawn continued, "that gave Seo a chance to screw around inside her own head. Like, she knew she was gonna turn evil, and she knew evil-her would turn against her own family, so she implanted brainwashy stuff inside her own head to protect us and trick the Goddess."

Giles massaged the bridge of his nose. "And I suppose that must be the real reason the Goddess brought in the Judge," he decided. "She feared Seo was still alive inside of her, somewhere. By now, the Judge will have burned that part out of her, and she'll have no goodness left, at all."

"Nuh-uh!" Dawn protested. "She tried that. The Judge got all funny weird about it and said he couldn't. There was a mental link between them or something."

"Tell them what she said next," Buffy urged her sister.

"Oh, yeah, and then she went on this whole thinky thingy," Dawn said, remembering, "where she said it was through the resurrection gauntlet and she'd battled the Doctor for it but she thought it was destroyed, except it wasn't and even if it had been it wouldn't have mattered, because she…"

Xander raised up his hands. "Okay, okay, slow down! Explain, again."

Buffy figured  _she_ should explain — in actual words, this time. "The resurrection gauntlet that the Doctor gave us," she explained, "is important, because it was pulled backwards through time and used on Seo, to rob her of her soul — and turn her into the Goddess. For some reason, she has a mental connection to the Judge, through that glove."

"And you're saying someone evil, back in 1875, caught her and used the glove to revive the Judge, inside of her, for a minute or two," Willow guessed, "which caused her soul to just kind of… burn away?"

Buffy nodded. "And that's the same reason the Judge can't burn it out of her, now." She nestled her hands in her lap. "Angel told me, last night, that the resurrection gauntlet makes a mental connection by using compassion and empathy." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If the Goddess and the Judge are still connected, it's because there's one last little bit of compassion and empathy, in both of them. The Judge can't see it, to burn it out of her, because it's already inside him."

"By compassion and empathy, you mean…?" Xander asked.

"Seo's soul," Willow breathed, suddenly getting it. "She's still alive — like, just a spark, but she's still alive! She's been hiding, using the glove!"

"And the Goddess said that if one drop of Seo is still existy inside her," Dawn concluded, practically clapping her hands in excitement, "then one day, it'll take her over, completely. So if we've got the glove…!"

"Then we can give her a soul," Giles realized.

They all looked over at the resurrection gauntlet that the Doctor had left for them. Suddenly, it made perfect sense why he had done so. This was the key to their salvation.

"We can stop the sacrifices," Willow breathed.

"Expand the anti-radiation relief to the rest of the Earth," Xander added.

"Allow Buffy's friends and acquaintances the opportunity to live for more than a year," Giles put in.

"Not have me get killed as an interdimensional Key!" Dawn agreed.

Buffy said nothing. Her eyes just remained fixed on that resurrection glove. She had to believe this was possible. She had to believe that this world could get better — that there was a way for her to be happy. Truly happy.

"Of course, the next question we must address is… how," Giles said, snapping back their focus to what actually mattered. He walked over to his bookshelf, took down a volume, and tossed it to Willow. Then he tossed another volume to Xander. "I believe this is a question that requires some research."

"Look for resurrection gauntlet stuff around Cardiff," Buffy advised them. She grabbed Dawn by the arm. "I'm taking her home, and then I'm gonna look for Angel. See what he knows about all this stuff."

Dawn squirmed, in Buffy's grip. "I wanna help!"

"Dawn, you can't even string a sentence together," Buffy sighed. "You're, like, the most incoherent 11 year old I've ever met." She tightened her grip, so Dawn couldn't break free. "No, you're going home, where it's safe, and then I'm…"

Buffy trailed off.

She remembered her mom being all with the Goddess worship and the I'm-so-helpful-ness. If the Goddess came to Buffy's house and demanded Dawn, Buffy was actually not so sure her mom wouldn't hand Dawn over.

A third time.

"On second thought," Buffy said, turning back to the others, "Giles, can you keep her here, for now? And, like, maybe the rest of the week?"

Xander whistled. "Harboring  _two_  Summers girls? Wow, G-man. Our days are numbered."

Giles nodded, solemnly, to Buffy. "Of course." He put an arm around Dawn's shoulders. "Come, Dawn. Perhaps there's a way you can assist us with our research, after all."

Buffy smiled at them.

Then, she ran off to Angel's apartment.

* * *

"Angel?" Buffy called, stepping inside. She looked around, frowning. It looked like no one had been inside since she left here, this morning. "Angel?"

Nothing.

Silence.

* * *

Angelus rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed in the mansion. He leaned forwards and dropped his head, laughing.

"I have to say, there are things I'm going to miss, when I finally shed my mortal body," said the Goddess, beside him. She reached out, her head still on the pillow, tracing her hand down the scratches she'd made across his back. "Penny for them?"

"I was just thinking," Angelus said, "how the one thing I wanted to do, the moment my soul left me, was take away the thing most precious to Buffy — and destroy it. Make it mine."

"Too late," said the Goddess. She pouted. "Not that she remembers, of course. Not at age 17."

Angelus turned back to her. "What did you say? You were my… Pygmalion?"

Her eyes glittered, in the light. "Does that make you happy? Hearing how you murdered me?" She got up, crawling over the bed towards him. "Do you want to hear more?"

She reached out a hand to him, and he grabbed it, yanking her around so she was lying across his lap. He leaned over, staring at her, a cold, impartial gleam in his eye.

"Does it make you feel powerful," she whispered to him, "thinking of how you burned me to death? Does that make you swell with pride — hearing how you tracked down, tortured, and killed the only daughter your lover could ever have?"

He cupped her face in his hands, analyzing her, carefully. "There's some Buffy in your face. Not a lot but… just a bit. I can see it." His voice lowered to a growl. "Maybe, one of these days, I'll cut her features out of you."

The Goddess laughed.

"Or a touch of acid," Angelus whispered, brushing his thumb across the bridge of her nose — too like Buffy's. Her chin — too much like Buffy's. The shape of her eyes… "Maybe while you're asleep… enough to make you writhe and scream…"

"Aw, you are so cute!" She pulled herself out of his grip and sat on the edge of the bed, beside him, ruffling his hair. "It's just like the days when you first killed me. Back when you thought you were the one in charge." She met his eyes with her own twinkling ones. "Before I ended the world."

Angelus jumped to his feet, grabbed her, and slammed her against the wall of the bedroom, restraining her arms above her head. "I don't think you get how this is going to work, between us." He grabbed a knife from the window ledge, nearby — and showed it to her. "I don't really care about you. I just want to find a way to really hurt that Slayer of mine — and…" He grinned, rotating the knife so that the fluorescent lights illuminated the sharp blade — just inches from her cheeks "…considering you're her daughter, I think carving you up and hearing you scream would just about do it for me."

The Goddess didn't look scared, at all. She just looked at the knife like she thought he was teasing her with it. "All that, and you're not even going to ask me where I hid Drusilla?"

Angelus paused. He considered using the knife, anyways — just to show her he wasn't teasing — but didn't. "Surely, she's dead, by now."

"Oh, certainly not," the Goddess said. She beamed. "Saving her was my crowning glory.  _My_  masterpiece. Drusilla Keeble — the last great work of the time-traveling do-gooder." Her voice dropped. "Do you want to see her?"

Angelus put down the knife and stepped back. "You can do that?"

The Goddess snapped her fingers, and flattened her palm. There, hovering just above her hand, floated an image of Drusilla — looking a little older, but nowhere near as old as she should. And it was so strange, looking at her like this, after Angelus had last seen her (in his own timeline) as the vampire he'd created. Here, Drusilla positively glowed with compassion and empathy and goodness. Her face was etched with kindness, her every gesture gracious and sweet. She sat upon a red chair, her hair done up in curls and her eyes shining.

The Goddess twisted her hand, and the image faded.

"And no one can touch her," the Goddess announced, a little proudly. "Not even Hell Gods. Not even you — no matter how hard you tried." She chuckled. "You thought your vampire Drusilla was a masterpiece — ha!  _This_ is a masterpiece."

Angelus frowned.

The Goddess turned her eyes back to Angelus. "But I'm not done, yet. My mother and father are such an opportunity. Don't you think? A Time Lord and a Line Hopper! Imagine it. Destroy their lives, and I can create a much darker, more intricate painting. My next masterpiece — to rival my first."

Angelus shook his head, tapping the flat side of the knife blade against his hand. "You're still not getting this whole power dynamic, here." He pointed the knife at her. "You don't make masterpieces or plans. Not when it impacts something I want." His eyes went dark. "And the Slayer is mine."

The Goddess considered. Then, with a shrug — "Fine."

Angelus blinked. "That's it? You're just… giving her to me?"

The Goddess began to dress. "You want to torture her, tear her apart, make her life hell. That works out beautifully with my plans, anyways." She zipped up her dress. "Of course, if you really want to cause her to lose her mind with pain and grief — you'll need my help."

"I don't think so," said Angelus.

The Goddess — seemingly from nowhere — revealed a small necklace with a glowing amber pendant. "This," she said, "is something I have been looking for, for a long, long time." She paced towards him, holding it out, tantalizingly. "Use this… and the Slayer will feel pain like she could never imagine."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Angelus asked. "If it really did what you say — you'd have used it, by now."

The Goddess closed his fingers over the necklace. "Yes," she whispered, "but that's not the plan." She pat his hand, with the necklace inside. "That's not how you create a  _true_  masterpiece."

He frowned, not sure he liked this.

"Besides," she added in a whisper, drawing in closer to him, "it has a side effect that you might find  _very_  helpful."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Enter the 10th Doctor! He'll be sticking around for the rest of the story.

* * *

"Buffy!"

Buffy spun around, and smiled, as she saw Angel running towards her. He caught her up in his arms and gave her a long, passionate kiss.

"I looked everywhere for you," Buffy said, when they separated. "I thought something happened to you."

Angel pulled something from his pocket, and handed it to her. "Birthday present."

Buffy took it. It was a silver necklace, with a dazzling piece of amber at the bottom — one that seemed to almost glow, in her hands. "It's beautiful."

"Put it on," said Angel. "I want to see it on you."

Buffy glanced around herself. "First — we should get out of here. I thought I heard the TARDIS, a few minutes ago. Whatever happens next, I think we should be… alone. You know?"

Angel grinned, putting an arm around her waist. "Sounds perfect. How about my place?"

* * *

"Eliza—!" the Doctor said, as he soniced open the door. He frowned, placing one hand in the pocket of his brown pinstripe suit. In front of him was Joyce Summers, kneeling before some sort of shrine. "Oh, hello. What's this?" He stepped inside, examining the shrine, carefully. "Ooh, now that's bad. Bad with a capital B sort of bad."

"Buffy isn't here," Joyce told him, as she got up from the shrine. "She said she was probably going to spend the night at Willow's."

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Brilliant! So you know who I am. That's good. Well, I say good. Actually, there's not much about any of this that's good, but perhaps slightly less bad than the worst kind of bad you could possibly imagine sort of bad…" He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. Then spun on his red trainers, turning towards the door. "Right! Yes. Willow's! Which would be…?"

Joyce pointed the way for him, and gave him directions.

"Brilliant!" the Doctor said, and raced off.

* * *

"You still haven't put it on," Angel said.

Buffy sat on his bed. "Huh?" She pulled out the necklace. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot." She undid the clasp, then paused. "Why weren't you around when I woke up, Angel? I missed you."

"I was trying to do some work for you on that… resurrection gauntlet," Angel said. He shrugged. "I don't sleep much, anyways."

Buffy took this explanation in, not looking so happy with it. Finally, she decided to accept it, and put on the necklace. "I was going to tell you about that, actually. Dawn gave us all kinds of info about how the Goddess was first created — using  _that_  gauntlet. We think we can use it to… restore… her…"

Buffy trailed off.

Then, doubling over, she gasped in pain as the amber pendant glowed even more brightly. Angel turned around to watch her, fascinated, as she trembled and shook and reached out for help — but found none.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

Buffy looked pale, faint, her every breath gaspy and her eyes struggling to focus. She tried to speak, but for a minute, her voice failed her.

Finally, Buffy managed to say, "What… what have you done to me?"

"Now, that's an interesting question," Angel said, walking over to her. "Better question, though: what did  _you_  do to  _me_ , last night?" He grinned into her face. "Lover."

Buffy's eyes went wide, as she started to realize there was something very, very wrong here.

"See, I was told that the little charm on that necklace would kind of knock the Slayer-strength out of you, for a bit," Angel said. "Along with most of the normal strength." He stepped back, towards the entrance. "Look at you. Sweet little Buffy. Weak as a kitten. No way to fight back." He locked the door. "And with no exits."

"What… happened to you?" Buffy gasped, real fear appearing in her eyes, her body going tense.

Angel approached her with a sadistic grin on his face. "Now, now, Lover. You're not here to ask questions. You came here for one thing." He loomed over her. "And I think it's time we got on with that."

Buffy tried to kick him back, but found — he was right! No Slayer strength. Not even normal strength!

Angel tackled her onto the bed. "How about, this time," he said, in a cold voice, "we use some chains — maybe some whips, maybe some knives, maybe…"

A high-pitched buzzing sound rang through the air.

The door to the apartment clicked open.

"Elizabeth! Brilliant!" the Doctor cried, running inside — seemingly oblivious to what was going on. "Willow said you'd be here. And Angel! You're here, too. Even more brilliant." He swooped in, yanking Buffy off the bed and grabbing her away from Angel. "Thank you for not telling me about 1860, by the by. You can see how well that worked out, what with…" The Doctor noticed the necklace around Buffy's neck. "Oh, hello. What's this?"

"Doctor," Angel said, turning to him, eyes hard and cold, "if you want to remain alive long enough for me to torture you and drain every last drop of blood from your body — you should leave. Now."

The Doctor ignored him and buzzed Buffy's pendant with the sonic screwdriver. "Oh, now that's interesting. It's a temporal anomaly cage with a mechanism for isomorphic biodata transfer."

Buffy was definitely feeling like she'd had enough technobabble, and just wanted to get out of here, right now. "Doctor…"

"Whatever this used to contain, it came from the uncorrupted timeline," the Doctor remarked. "Must have given Blinovitch a run for his money. I'm surprised you're still standing, Elizabeth, after putting on something like…"

Angel morphed his face and lunged for the Doctor.

Buffy screamed.

The Doctor darted, with her, out of the way of Angel's attack, and nearly fell onto the floor. "On second thought…" He grabbed Buffy's hand, regaining his balance. "Run. Definitely run."

He yanked Buffy with him, racing out of the door. He slammed it shut, soniced it locked, and dragged a table in front of it. Then grabbed Buffy by the hand — and ran towards the apartment exit.

"Sorry that I didn't get here, sooner, but the vortex is a mess right now," the Doctor told Buffy, as they continued running. "It was all I could do to land sometime after you'd already met me. TARDIS kept trying to bring me back to January, 1998."

"This  _is_  January, 1998!" Buffy shouted.

The Doctor blinked. "Is it? And you still know who I am?" He considered. "Well, that's not good." He pushed her into the stairwell, then yanked the door shut, behind them, and soniced it locked, too. "Where's Kendra, by the by? If Angel's lost his soul…"

"Lost his soul?!" Buffy cried.

The Doctor shot her a look. "Course he has. Moment of happiness. Lost soul. Try to keep up." He grinned, as they raced down the stairs. "As I was saying, if Angel's lost his soul and this is January, 1998, then Kendra Young should be around here, somewhere."

"Kendra who?"

"Other Slayer?" the Doctor prompted. Then, noticing her blank expression, "No? Nothing?" He sighed. "Blimey. No wonder the vortex was in such a state."

They ran outside the emergency exit of the stairwell, and into the night air.

Then they stopped, as they discovered they weren't alone or unexpected. The exit to the building was surrounded by at least a hundred different vampires, demons, and evil things — and standing in their midst was a woman with long mahogany hair, a sleek black dress, and high heels.

"Oh. Now that explains a lot," the Doctor muttered. He felt Buffy wavering, beside him, and put an arm around her, to keep her upright. To the woman in front of him: "Seo, I presume? A future incarnation?"

The Goddess quirked an eyebrow at him, a half-smile on her face. "I haven't been Seo for a long, long time, Father. Calling me that won't make her come back." She shoved him out of the way, hard enough to send him skittering across the ground. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm here for Mom."

Buffy looked at the Goddess with a sudden horrible sense of deep emotional pain. She was trembling. Tears were in her eyes.

"That's it," said the Goddess, putting her hands on Buffy's shoulders. "There's the pain I wanted. The pain of a mother who has just realized she's lost the one thing that mattered to her, most."

"She can't be gone," Buffy breathed, through the pain. "She can't!"

"I wish I could give you her memories, too, but that was a little too hard," said the Goddess. "But to look into your eyes, again, and see that love — like you used to have, every time you saw me…"

Buffy broke down into violent tears.

"Temporal anomaly cage," the Doctor groaned, getting up from the ground. "Of course. Buffy doesn't remember you — doesn't even know who you are. You wanted to hurt your mother for making you feel human, but it was never enough for you, because she never really loved you the way she was supposed to. Not after you mucked about with the timeline. So you put your mum's love for you into that necklace and infused  _this_ Buffy with it." The Doctor straightened, and pointed his sonic screwdriver at her. "Thing is, I  _do_  remember Seo. And I know she'd have done everything in her power to stop this happening. So whatever you think you've done to her — know this." His eyes went dark. "I am the Oncoming Storm. The Ka Faraq Gatri. I am the Doctor — and I  _will_  get her back."

The Goddess turned to him, suddenly intrigued. "Interesting." She examined him, up and down. "This really  _is_  you, isn't it? Not one of the Doctors I've been destroying, in my nice, new timeline. Not the Tenth Doctor I last encountered, a week ago, so shattered and broken and furious. This is  _the real_  you."

The Doctor walked over to Buffy, keeping his sonic screwdriver trained on the Goddess, at all times. He bent down and put an arm around Buffy, hoping to give her some comfort.

"Well, in that case," said the Goddess, with a shrug. She pointed, into the distance, and a bolt of lightning flashed down, striking the TARDIS and illuminating it in a dazzling white light. Then, as the Doctor gritted his teeth, wincing in horrible pain, the TARDIS shrieked and split apart — into a hundred billion pieces.

"No!" the Doctor shouted. He stared into the distance, a bitter, horrible pain on his face. "But that's not…!"

"Possible?" The Goddess sighed. "Oh, Father — I think you might need to revise what you thought was 'possible' and 'impossible,' in my world." She glanced behind Buffy and the Doctor, and her eyes lit up. "Would you like to have a go at him? I know you never forgave him for what he did to your soul."

"I thought you'd never ask," said Angelus, emerging from the building. He circled them both, his eyes glowing yellow with predatory sadism, his lips still in a wide grin. "Two new little toys to play with. Hm… what can I do, now, to make them really suffer?"

Buffy met his eyes with such hurt, fury, and pain in hers — it could have covered a continent. "How could you?" she whispered, to Angel. "My daughter. My only child! My one source of happiness. How could you have taken my…?!"

"Oh, now that's just needlessly cruel," the Doctor insisted. He turned Buffy around. "Listen to me, Elizabeth. If you could remember what had happened, before, you'd know this isn't the first time something like this has happened. She had Twilight in her head for a century — remember? And she got over that. So I know she can get over…"

Buffy yanked the Doctor downwards, and he just barely avoided getting skewered by an arrow from a crossbow.

The short, sack-clothed pimply thing who shot the arrow gave the Doctor a cold glare. "You do not dare dishonor the Goddess with this blasphemy!"

"Burn the heretic!" shouted a different pimply-faced sackcloth guy, carrying a torch. "Sear his flesh!"

"Tear out his soul, douse him in gasoline, and purify his body unto the heavens!" shouted a third.

The Goddess rolled her eyes, and stepped out, in front of them. She gave a sharp whistle, and everyone fell silent and stopped advancing.

"I told you! Not yet!" she scolded. She turned around, back to her parents, crossing her arms and examining them both getting up from the ground and holding one another — as if she were an art critic, studying a canvas. "That's the thing about a true masterpiece," she mused. "You have to know when the painting is good and ready, before you burn out their souls and shove them into a museum."

Buffy nearly fainted, again, and the Doctor caught her. He kept his eyes fixed on the Goddess — a warning.

The Goddess nodded, as if in approval of the painting.

Then she gave a signal to the evil creatures around them. "Take them back to the mansion.  _Don't_ kill them. Although — if you want to hit them or spit in their faces, be my guest." She glanced at Angelus, and smiled. "I promised you I'd let you have them. So go ahead. My parents are all yours."


	10. Chapter 10

"Right! Here's what I can remember," the Doctor said, now chained up and hanging upside down. "Last I knew, the Earth of 1998 was a rather pleasant, verdant little planet, populated by about 6 billion people, and which had certainly not gone through a nuclear war. So's Earth of 2007, incidentally. After enduring a rather unpleasant year onboard the Valiant, I sent you off to train Seo how not to muck about with history. Little did I know — I was sending the two of you right into the middle of one vampire's systematic destruction of an innocent woman's life." He sighed. "Popped back to see Angel and get a bit of a run-down about what happened. Then, next thing I know — the vortex has gone haywire, and the whole timeline's been warped and corrupted into this."

Buffy — also chained, but, fortunately, left right-side up — struggled. "Doctor, this isn't the time."

"Sorry? Not the time? When is the time, if not this?" The Doctor tried to quirk an eyebrow at her, but it looked incredibly silly, with him hanging upside down, like that. "The whole timeline's batty. Not going to fix that just by mucking about, you know."

Buffy bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at him. She was scared to death, devoid of Slayer strength, about to be tortured in ways she didn't want to imagine, and finally feeling love for a daughter she couldn't remember — along with all the pain of that daughter's torture and death. But the Doctor was here. So it all, somehow, seemed a lot more okay.

"What do you call her, by the way? Glorificus?" the Doctor asked. "Almighty Glorificus? Glory? Or…?"

Buffy shook her head. "Just 'the Goddess'. Keyword being  _the_  Goddess — as in, 'the one-and-only divine being out there'." She rolled her eyes. "She seems really freaked out that we might find two other Hell Gods to worship, alongside her."

The Doctor considered, tilting his head back and forth. "Well… bit vain, but… suppose it makes sense…"

"Doctor," Buffy cut in, trying to get them back to a topic that could actually help them. "Is there a way you can give me back my Slayer strength?" She tugged on her chains. "Like, before Angel comes back?"

"Not likely," the Doctor replied, blowing a breath out of his cheeks. "This isn't like those drugs the Council gave you, when you turned 18. You were given a blast of Blinovitch — and that'll zap a person for a few hours, at least — day or two, at most." He paused. Reflected. "Well, actually, at most, you'd be dead, so…"

"It's my 17th birthday!" Buffy hissed at him. "I haven't turned 18, yet."

The Doctor paused. "Right. Yes. Sorry. Knew that." He gave a sheepish grin. "Bit hard to think, hanging upside down, like this. Brain goes a bit fuzzy."

"That's why we did it," said the Goddess, stepping out into the room, with Angelus. She curled up into Angelus, advertising their intimacy for Buffy. They smelled of sex, and their clothes were a little crumpled. "Sorry for the delay. We had some things to do, first."

Buffy found herself in tears, again.

"You were right, Goddess," said Angelus, examining Buffy. "One look at us, and she falls apart." He clutched the Goddess to him, possessively. "You know, Lover — I really feel I should explain to you, in graphic detail, just how much fun it is to have sex with your daughter. Just, the way she—"

"Got the mind-games, thanks," the Doctor interrupted. "Tell me, though — Seo, or Meyomelae Krvas, or Goddess, or whatever you're calling yourself, these days." His voice dropped, a little. "What happened to Drusilla?"

The Goddess stiffened, a little, at the question.

"Because all this shouldn't be possible, you know," the Doctor continued. "Nuclear war? The near annihilation of humanity? Everyone worshipping a goddess of pure evil? That's not how time's supposed to work. If you'd just nipped into the past and saved Drusilla in any normal way, I'd expect to see some other poor soul turned into a vampire — but  _nothing_ like  _this_."

"Quiet," the Goddess snapped.

"So what, exactly, did you do?" the Doctor asked. "How'd you save her? Where did you put her? What else did you do, while you were there? And, more importantly, what did you manage to change that made all of history turn on its head, like this? Because I know Seo — and she'd rather die than let the likes of you run about with her body and her memories." He shot her a look. "So the fact that you're here, at all, makes me very suspicious that there's…"

"I think we're going to have to ignore my mom and torture my  _father_ , first, just to shut him up," the Goddess interrupted, her voice a little icy and more arch.

Angelus yanked a gag out of his little box of tortures and tools, and shoved it around the Doctor's mouth.

"He's right, though," Buffy said, regaining her courage… if not her physical strength. "This shouldn't be possible. It's paradoxiness on top of paradoxiness on top of paradoxiness. I mean…" Glancing at the Doctor, "...how are he and I even going to have a kid, in the first place, given how you've screwed up both our lives?" She shifted her gaze to the Goddess. "And how's it even possible for that kid to grow up to be you?"

The Goddess shrugged. "I'm an independent element of the universe. Nothing's impossible for me." She grinned, snuggling up to Angelus. "Not even going back in time to steal my mother's boyfriend."

Buffy bit back her fury and anger and hurt, at this. She was torn between too many emotions, pulling at her in too many ways. She wanted to scream at Seo that Angelus was using her — couldn't she see that? At the same time, Buffy wanted to burst into tears, because Angel was sleeping with someone else. And she wanted to burst into tears because he had hurt (so deeply) someone so important to her, someone she loved so much, and it tore her apart to see that.

"Oh, look," said Angelus. "I think that really,  _really_ bothers her."

The Goddess smiled. "I wouldn't have done it, if it didn't." She glanced over at the Doctor. "But how do we hurt  _him_? Oh, I know. 1963, London. Shoreditch."

A slide projector clicked on, illuminating one wall of the mansion with a black and white crime photo from 1963. It was of a girl who had been brutally and sadistically murdered in a school in Shoreditch, London.

The Doctor recognized the girl.

His eyes went very, very dark.

"Susan," said the Goddess. She pat Angelus on the arm. "I was so proud of you! Show him another."

The image changed to a bloody, tortured Liz Shaw, then to Tegan Jovanka — gunned down while possessed by the Mara. Then to the crumpled and bloodied form of…

Martha Jones.

"Very nice work," the Goddess praised, rubbing Angelus' shoulder. "I wish Martha had screamed more at the end, though. Don't you?"

"Dunno — I wasn't there," said Angelus. "Different timeline." He grinned at Buffy. "Tell you what, though? How about I do something similar to Lover Girl, over here?" Angelus grabbed up some torture implements. "And you can tell me when the screaming is enough."

Buffy struggled in her chains, as Angelus approached her. "Seo, there's got to be some of you still in there!" Buffy begged. "Dawn! You remember Dawn! You couldn't hurt her, could you?"

"Mom, if you don't shut up," the Goddess said, sharply, "I'll make him stitch your mouth closed."

Angelus brandished the metal knives at Buffy, letting them glint in the fluorescent lights, as he brought them closer and closer to her face. He seemed to be relishing her ever increasing terror.

"He's using you, Seo!" Buffy shouted. "He's not sleeping with you because he loves you! He wants to turn you into his tool! His possession! But you actually  _do_  love him, don't you? You missed him, when he was Angel. You were lonely. You wanted him back."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said the Goddess, her eyes smoldering, as she crossed her arms. "My only interest, Mom, is in constructing a masterpiece." She gave a small smile. "And I think a Time Lord and a Line Hopper would make a pretty interesting temporal painting — don't you?" She flicked her eyes over to the Doctor. "It'd sure put the Quantum Crystallizer to shame."

A look of shock, then horror, then terror flashed across the Doctor's face, at those words.

Angelus didn't care. He raised up the knife in his hand, to make the first incision into Buffy's pretty face. "I think I'll start with the parts of your face that are similar to your daughter's, Lover…"

That was when there was a high pitched whine and a click from beside him, as the Doctor buzzed his sonic at the chains, and they all snapped open, at once — both his and Buffy's. Buffy darted out of the way of Angelus' knife, while the Doctor fell flat on his face with an 'oomf'.

"So, Seo's gone, is she?" the Doctor said, tearing off the gag. He grinned and winked at the Goddess. "And yet, you locked me up without confiscating my sonic screwdriver and — not sure if you noticed — but you've been miming the setting number I need to unlock the chains since you first began gloating at us."

He jumped to his feet, and stood in between Angelus and Buffy.

"And as for you, Angelus-be-dangelous," the Doctor said, taking Buffy's hand. "Word to the wise — you're not the one in charge, anymore. There's only one person with power, here, and she's standing right behind you — trying to fight off the remnants of her soul."

Angelus made to stab the Doctor in the gut — but the Goddess ran in and slammed Angelus against the wall, with a force that caused the whole building to shake.

"You miserable excuse for a vampire!" the Goddess shouted. "You sick, stuck up, selfish freak!" She tried to punch him in the head — but he yanked it out of the way, and the fist went through the wall. "You took my soul away, and you couldn't even do it properly?! You were so obsessed with torturing me that you gave little Say-say a way to stick around?!"

"And on that note," the Doctor said, grabbing Buffy by the arm and spinning around, "allons-y!"


	11. Chapter 11

Giles, at his house, seemed a little surprised to see Buffy coming back, this late, hand-in-hand with the Doctor, looking so rattled and disturbed — and with no Angel in sight.

"Did we lose them?" Buffy gasped, turning to the Doctor, as they piled inside Giles' house. She looked weak, her face flushed, like she'd been running for hours without any Slayer strength. "Like, all of them?"

The Doctor was also breathing hard. "Yep. Lost the last of those pimple-faced minion things a few blocks back." He flipped his sonic in the air. "Gave them a bit of a trick. Don't think we'll meet them, again, in a hurry."

Giles stepped forwards, offering Buffy a chair and putting the kettle on — just in case she had randomly turned English, in the last few hours, and now wanted some tea.

Buffy finally digested where they were.

"Dawn," Buffy said, turning on Giles. "Is Dawn still…?"

Giles gestured at the girl sleeping on his sofa. "We gave her some supper and she fell asleep." He tried to sit Buffy down on the chair, before she could fall over. "Did Angel tell you anything?"

"Yeah, that's our other problem," Buffy said. "Angel's not Angel, anymore." She squirmed out of his grip and, instead, began to rummage through books on Giles' bookshelf. "There's gotta be a way to get his soul back, Giles. Like, magic, or…!"

"I think he's the least of our worries," the Doctor cut in. He ran a hand through his hair. "If this is January, 1998, then Angel turning into Angelus is pretty much par for the course. That's not important. What  _is_ important is our Drusilla problem."

"Drusilla?!" Buffy spun on him. "Doctor, my boyfriend just lost his soul and is now one of the most evil…!"

"I saw what he did to Susan," the Doctor said, his voice turning dark and lifeless, for a second. A hard bitterness burned in his eyes. Then he blinked, and it was gone. "But Angelus is just a bully. A great big evil, sadistic, amoral bully — but still, just a bully. It's the Meyomelae Krvas who's  _really_  dangerous."

Giles frowned. "Meyomelae…?"

"This Goddess that you lot worship," the Doctor explained. "She isn't just any ordinary 12th dimensional being. We had stories about her, back on Gallifrey — and she was a nasty piece of work." The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "She's clever. Devastatingly powerful. I thought that my lot had weakened her — maybe even fractured her in two — back during the days of Rassilon, but it's as if your Goddess worked out some way to find the other fractured part and stitch herself back together!"

"I… see," said Giles, who didn't.

Buffy bunched her hands into fists. "Angel…!"

"Elizabeth, listen to me," the Doctor said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Angelus just wants to carve us up in some twisted act of revenge — because each of us made him feel a bit more human, and he hates that." He shook her. "The Meyomelae Krvas pretends she wants the same — because that's what Angelus understands. But she doesn't. What she wants is something far more terrifying."

"She wants to have sex with my boyfriend!" Buffy shouted.

The Doctor sighed. "Blimey — you have a bit of a one-track mind, tonight." He shook his head. "It'd put the Quantum Crystallizer to shame. That's what she said! All the cruelty, all the so-called sadism — when  _she_ does it, it's not just cruel or sadistic. Everything is very carefully calculated. She is using precise computations to manipulate both our lives, in order to fulfill some plan that'll allow her to alter time to her will."

"How?" Buffy demanded. "How is she going to use us to do time-altering stuff?"

The Doctor let go of her, and stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving a sheepish grin.

"You don't know, do you?" Buffy snapped. "You just  _think_ that's what she's doing." She turned around, and began rummaging through books, again. "My boyfriend just became a homicidal maniac, Doctor — and he's sleeping with my daughter. I can't let that keep happening."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine. Let's just… blow off the end of the universe, so you can have a moment to obsess over a vampire boyfriend who thinks it's fine and dandy to sleep with underage girls who've just turned seventeen."

The Doctor's eyes landed on Dawn, and he suddenly got curious. He ran over, analyzing her.

"Sorry — who's this?" the Doctor asked, buzzing her with his sonic.

Giles seemed confused. "You know who that is. Surely you've met Buffy's sister, before."

"Sister?" The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at him. "She's an only child. She doesn't have a sister." The Doctor analyzed the readings and frowned. Shook his head. "Sides which… well, plain as the nose on your face. Dawn's got that sort of green glow about her. Bit like she's a disguise… for…"

The Doctor trailed off, as a lost, lonely expression trickled across his face.

"Ah," the Doctor said. "Yes, that's right — they said, at the Watchers' Council. The Monks of the Order of Dagon wanted to create another segment of the Key."

"Doctor, we know that Dawn is the Key," Giles informed him. "The Goddess has been visiting her since she was a baby, to inform her of this fact."

The Doctor looked thoroughly glum and troubled, as he thought through all the implications of this. Each one he thought up was worse and more terrible than the last.

"However," Giles continued, "we do still have the resurrection gauntlet that you gave us. And, after what Dawn's told us, we believe that is the way to restore your daughter's soul back to her." He coughed, pointedly. "If you could explain to us how to accomplish this… we would greatly appreciate it."

The Doctor blinked.

Then spun around, to face Giles. "Sorry — resurrection gauntlet?"

* * *

"You let them get away!" Angelus accused.

The Goddess blinked. She dropped him and stepped back, suddenly looking very confused.

"No, I see," Angelus said, working it out. "You  _wanted_ them to get away. Well, not this you. The you who cries whenever you see poor little Dawn Summers."

"How dare you!" the Goddess hissed.

Angelus gave a loud, cruel laugh. "You aren't in control, anymore, are you? You! The Goddess who destroyed the world! Who survives anything and everything! You're terrified, because — for the first time — you don't know what you're doing."

The Goddess stormed up to him. "I know  _exactly_  what I'm…!"

Angelus grabbed her up and kissed her. He felt her, as she melted into him, circling her arms around his body, running her hands through his hair.

He broke away. "Like I said," he told her. "Don't have a clue what you're doing." He touched his forehead to hers. "Your mommy was right. You're in love with me."

"Don't be absurd," the Goddess huffed.

"Oh, I'd love not to, darling, but it's hard when you're still trying to masquerade yourself as a Hell Goddess — even though, every hour, you're becoming more and more human." He cupped her face in his hands, examining her, carefully. "I can see it, in your eyes — just as I can see it in Buffy's. You love me."

She slapped him — hard enough that he stumbled back, away from her.

But nowhere near as hard as she could.

"How long did you cry, when the me from this timeline disappeared?" Angelus taunted. "Did your hearts ache? Did you reach for that empty spot on the bed, hoping he'd be there — and then feel that cold chill, because you'd forgotten he was gone?"

"You bastard," the Goddess growled.

Angelus closed the space between them, and swept her up into another kiss. He let her prove herself wrong, as she eagerly tried to get more from him, pulling him towards her and acting ever so needy.

"Look at you — the Slayer's daughter," said Angelus, kissing down the side of her neck and feeling her shudder beneath him. "So very desperate. So very scared." He pinched her. "So very human." He cupped her face in his hand. "Tell me, little Say-say — you don't mind if I call you that, right? After all, it's who you're turning back into…" He leaned in. "Tell me, little Say-say — what would you do to make me kiss you?"

She met his eyes with her own — leaning in so close, their lips almost touched. "Stop it."

"What do I have to do, to make you break apart, like Drusilla?" Angelus pondered. He nipped at her lips, teasing her with the prospect of a real, deep kiss. "Do I hurt you?" He pulled away. "Or do I just ignore you? Do I leave you begging and give you nothing back?"

She grabbed him by the arms, her pupils dilated, her teeth gritted, and it wasn't clear if she was about to beat him to a pulp or straddle him, right then and there — or both, at once.

"What if I decided I was bored with you," Angelus proposed, stepping out of her grip, "and went back to your mommy, instead? She's younger than you. Prettier than you. She may be a little inexperienced, but I think it'll be worth putting in the time and effort with her."

"I am perfect," the Goddess hissed. "She is nothing."

"Perfect? Call yourself perfect, when you're falling apart before my eyes?" He drew her towards him and began touching her, teasing her. "Look at you. Needy. Hungry. Little Say-say. I can drive you wild, make your hearts race, make you a blubbering wreck — and then just…" He stepped away, raising his hands in the air. "...step back and soak in the disappointment and hurt in your eyes, as I leave you. Just like the lonely wretch you are, inside."

She practically tackled him to the ground. "You complete bastard," she hissed, as she gave him a deep, passionate kiss.

Angelus broke off the kiss, purposely. Then, he rolled her onto her back and hit her — hard.

"I can see why my other self was so obsessed with you," Angelus said, with a cold laugh. He hit her again, even harder, just for good measure. "I thought destroying the Slayer would be fun! This is much,  _much_  better. Hurt you, and the Slayer suffers. Break you, and I break her. But you're more fun to toy with." He rolled off her, jumped to his feet, and kicked her. "And, best of all, you'll put up with  _anything_ from me — but don't ever seem to get that I don't care for you, in the slightest."

The Goddess sat up, narrowing her eyes at him. "Fine. Have it your way!"

She snapped her fingers.

Angelus cried out, as he dropped down to the floor, a golden light shimmering in his eyes. He curled up into a ball, feeling the agony of his centuries of crimes coming back to him.

"This wasn't part of the plan!" the Goddess shouted at him, jumping to her feet and racing over to him. "You're throwing off all the equations! Everything I've planned so long to… to…!"

She realized, to her horror, she had leaned down, put her hands on Angel's shoulders, and was helping him up and turning him towards the exit to the mansion.

"No," the Goddess breathed, stopping herself. "I can't… be…" She looked down at herself. "I'm not human! It's not happening!"

She grabbed him up and shoved chains around his wrists — stringing him up where Buffy had been, earlier. She panted, a little, trying to calm herself down. It was only then that she realized she had the key to the chains still in her hand — and that she was already handing the key to Angel, even now.

She flung the key away.

Then snapped her fingers, again, to get Angelus back — just to stop this, before she did something to allow Angel to escape, soul and all, so he could go help Buffy. This wasn't the plan, she'd said — but was it Seo's? The Goddess shuddered. Had she really snapped her fingers to punish Angelus, or had she done it because something crawling around in her subconscious wanted to return her mother's boyfriend to her?

"I have to get rid of this," the Goddess told herself, leaning over and threading her hands through her hair. She felt herself hyperventilating. "I have to get rid of this! I have to get rid of this!"

That was when a gaggle of sack-clothed, pimple-faced minions raced into the room. They groveled before her. "Oh, glorious Goddess! Oh divine and ethereal one! We have found a way to eliminate the final vestiges of your soul!"

The Goddess looked up, suddenly hopeful.

"It is not enough to destroy the resurrection gauntlet," said the minions. "From all we have discovered, you must destroy the gauntlet in lava — in the midst of an explosion so powerful, it will be a monumentally fundamental temporal moment in this planet's history."

The Goddess sighed and rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands in the air. "The resurrection gauntlet is gone, dumbos! I fought the Doctor for it, ages ago, and it got smashed to bits!"

"Actually," said Angelus, a gleam in his eye, "it didn't. It's right here, in Sunnydale. I've seen it." He grinned at her. "Give me another chance — and I'll get it for you. Promise."


	12. Chapter 12

"Oh, yes, yes, yes, it's all making sense, now," the Doctor said, examining the resurrection gauntlet, at Giles' house. "This is the gauntlet that fell through the Cardiff rift in 1967 — but you said Angelus gathered the worst of the worst together to take Seo down, yes?" The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Get a vortex creature or something temporal in that Hell army, and they could reach into the rift and pluck it right out." He considered. "In fact, get Bilis Manger in there, and  _he_  could pluck it right out. And I think he's got a bit of a grudge against her."

"Bilis whom?" Giles asked.

"So Angelus took the gauntlet," said the Doctor, thinking, "because…" The Doctor clapped his hands. "Oh, yes! That's it! The Judge!"

Buffy didn't look up from her work looking through books, to find something about Angel. "We know that."

Giles took the Doctor aside, and told him everything that they'd worked out, so far.

The Doctor stared, for a second. A deep sadness washed over him.

"I see," the Doctor muttered. He ran a hand down his face. "Soul burned out of her. That's… a horrible way to go." His eyes went out of focus, as he stared into the moonlight. "Poor, poor Seo. I never expected this, when I sent you to 1860."

He paused, for a long, long time. Just stared at the resurrection gauntlet, allowing the deep sadness of all this to linger in his eyes, in his hearts, in his soul.

"Right, yes! Sorry. Bit distracted," the Doctor said, slamming down a grin to hide his sorrow. He spun around, to face Giles. "So — to summarize: known-knowns!" He stepped forwards. "Seo is linked to the Judge, through the resurrection gauntlet. My blonder, freckled incarnation of Seo did  _not_ save Drusilla, but, centuries later, full of guilt and regret, a much later incarnation of Seo went back and did it, anyways. Angelus, furious that Seo stole his obsession, vowed revenge on her, and gathered an army to take her down and rob her of her soul — using the resurrection gauntlet. That action revived the Meyomelae Krvas. And she destroyed the world." He ran a hand through his hair. "Known-unknowns: well, for a start, how any of the above is possible, considering the relative intelligence levels of Seo and Angelus and the numerous time paradoxes and impossibilities involved…" He shook his head. "Also, we don't know what happened to Drusilla. We don't know how this timeline could get so drastically warped with a minor edit. We don't know what happened to Kendra Young, or…"

"Kendra Young died in her first fight against evil," Giles said, softly, pouring some cups of tea. "As do nearly all Slayers, these days." He brought a cup over to the Doctor, who took it. "An unfortunate reality of our time, I'm afraid."

Giles offered a second cup to Buffy, who shot him a look of, "Do I  _look_  English to you?" Then she returned to the books.

The Doctor frowned. "First fight? Nearly all Slayers? Certainly don't remember that." He sipped at the tea, thinking. "When did that start happening? No, wait! Let me guess." He grinned, eyes shining. "Moment the Meyomelae Krvas was revived! Am I right?"

Giles shook his head, and decided to take Buffy's tea for himself. "Rather earlier, I'm afraid. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when." He stared into the teacup. "Around the mid-19th century, certainly."

The Doctor fell quiet. "Ah." His eyes fell on Buffy, and he looked worried. "I see. That's… troubling." He scratched his head. " _She_ isn't about to…?"

"We don't know," Giles answered, sipping at his tea. "Truth is, Buffy's rather a mystery to the Council. She's survived three years, so far. No Slayer has even approached that survival record since… well, for a long, long time." He lowered his teacup. "It's why I consider it such an honor and a privilege to be her Watcher, despite the obvious… risks to myself."

"Goddess-related risks?" the Doctor guessed.

"Quite so," Giles said. Gestured at Buffy with his cup. "None of her Watchers ever live long. The Goddess doesn't let them. But to have the opportunity to  _truly_  make a difference, however briefly, in this world…"

Buffy looked up at them, glaring. "Can you guys stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

"Yes, dreadfully sorry, Buffy," Giles said, with a grimace. "We'll stop." Then, turning to the Doctor, added, softly, "I forgot — you must know all this, already."

"No, actually," the Doctor said. He put down his tea. "Right, well, any case — two new known-knowns. Kendra is dead and there's a problem with the Slayers. Still don't know about Drusilla, but I'm starting to get the feeling there might have been a reason that Angelus was able to burn out Seo's soul, despite everything." He paused. "So what  _else_ am I missing, here?"

Buffy shot him a look that told him that he was missing the part where they got Angel back his soul.

The Doctor's eyes went wide.

"Oh," the Doctor said. "Oh, I really,  _really_  should have thought of that, earlier! There  _is_  something I'm missing — or, rather, some _one_!"

The Doctor grabbed a slightly surprised Buffy by the hand and raced off, with her, out the front door.

"Who…?" Giles asked.

"Spike!" the Doctor shouted back. "I completely forgot about Spike!"


	13. Chapter 13

**1977**

Spike grinned, the Slayer's blood still in his throat, Nikki Wood's leather coat now wrapped around him. Fifteenth Slayer he'd defeated — and he was feeling bloody marvelous!

"Hello, Spike," came a voice he hoped he'd never hear, again.

Spike turned around, and his joy disappeared. "Oh, it's you." He lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke directly into her face. "You didn't kill me the last few times. So why don't you just sod off and stop trying?"

He turned and headed out of the subway. She didn't grab him back or run after him or anything — so he figured he was rid of her.

"Here's the thing," came her voice, to his left. He spun around — and she was there, in an alleyway, looking just the way she had been, before. "I'm not actually here, right now. I'm in 1875, in a very,  _very_ bad situation. And I'm afraid I might be about to lose everything."

"And I care… why?" Spike shook the ash from his cigarette onto her arm. "Like I said — sod off."

He headed down the street. Turned a corner.

"I needed to talk to you, now, because it was one of the only times and locations where I knew I could reliably find you," came the voice, again. "And I need your help."

She was standing beside a newspaper stand, this time.

She had a pair of stylish sunglasses on her head. Spike didn't remember her ever having those.

"How are you…?" Spike asked, looking her up and down.

"Let's just say I'm doing something extremely clever, and leave it at that," the woman with the sunglasses explained. "Incidentally — you're the only one who can see me, right now. That's why everyone's looking at you like you're talking to thin air."

Spike looked around himself. It was true that everyone else was staring at him like he was a crazy person.

So he was talking to hallucinations, now. Bloody fantastic.

"But none of that's important," the woman with the sunglasses said. "Spike, listen: I desperately need your help."

"I don't help you, mate," Spike said, pointing at her. "You're a maniac!"

"No, I'm not — but I soon will be," the woman with the sunglasses insisted. "So I need you to do something. I'm trying to find a way to get my father's TARDIS to Sunnydale, 1998. I need you to be there, too. I need you to meet up with him and the Slayer, and give them a message."

Spike laughed, and spread open his arms, now clothed in his new leather coat. "Yeah — I don't work with Slayers, love. I kill them. Read the coat!"

"Do you want the whole world to be reduced to dust in 2001, Spike?" the woman with the sunglasses demanded. "And yourself, along with it?"

Spike went quiet.

She had a point.

"All right, all right," Spike decided. He stubbed out his cigarette underfoot. "I'm not promising that I'll do it, but I'll hear you out. What do you want me to tell them?"

"Where Drusilla is."

* * *

**Now**

"Hello?" Spike called, creeping into the Sunnydale High School library. He double-checked, in his head, to make sure he had the right place and time — but he did. This is where he'd been told to meet the Slayer and the Doctor (not that he'd actually decided whether or not he was going to follow the instructions the hallucination had given him, yet, but at least this gave him a chance to kill another Slayer). "Anyone home?"

There was no one.

"Surprise, surprise," Spike grumbled. He lit up a cigarette. "Last time I listen to hallucinations."

"Hallucinations," came a familiar voice, from the shadows. "Interesting. Tell me more."

Spike spun around, and recognized the figure. "Well, I'll be! Angelus, as I live and breathe!" He coughed. "Or… as I don't live and don't breathe, actually." He smiled. "How you been? Heard you had a little soul problem."

"Just a phase, really," Angelus dismissed. "Over it, now. How's Dru?"

Spike blinked. "Sorry? How's who?"

"Wrong timeline… forgot…" Angelus shrugged. "Not important. Forget I said anything." He grinned. "Tell you what, though. I'm looking for a resurrection gauntlet — about so big…" He mimed with his hands, "...shiny and metal with that cold, evil clamminess that says, 'I love you'."

"Haven't seen it," Spike said. He flicked some ash from his cigarette onto the ground. "Trying to resurrect someone?"

"Nah, more sort of throwing it into a resurgent caldera," Angelus said. "And you? What brings you to Sunnydale?"

"Slayer, obviously," said Spike. He took a drag on his cigarette. "I got me a reputation, now, you know."

"I heard." Angelus whistled. "Impressive. Like the coat. How many have you gotten, now? Two?"

"Twenty three!" Spike seemed almost offended. "Two, he says. Pft!" He waved his cigarette at Angelus. "Gonna be 24, soon enough."

"I see." Angelus cleared his throat. "Actually, I'd rather you  _didn't_  go after the Slayer, right now. I've got kind of a thing with her. You know. Playing on an obsession of mine."

Spike groaned. He could guess what obsession  _that_  was. "You mean you're still shacking up with the maniac?" He shook his head. "You do realize that, whatever that Valeyard bloke got you to do to her, it won't last, yeah? One of these days, she's gonna work out your secret, fly into a rage, and kill you for good. And there won't be a damn thing you can do about it."

"Valeyard bloke?" Angelus mused this over. He'd never heard of anyone called 'Valeyard'. "Interesting…"

"She's madder than the moon, Angelus," Spike insisted. He took another drag on his cigarette. "You might think you're safe, with that Valeyard trick, but you're not. Know what she's planning, in 2001? Some ceremony that'll reduce this whole planet to dust." He shook his head, with a laugh. "Even you're not gettin' out of that one, mate."

Angelus looked long and hard at Spike. "You know, Spike — you're a good guy to talk to." He walked over, clapped Spike on the shoulder. "Tell you what? I've changed my mind. I'll give you Buffy — the Slayer. But stick around, for a bit, after you're done… and you and I can have a chance to catch up."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" He dropped his cigarette, and smashed it underfoot. "What you got, then? Because I'll tell you, Angelus — turning up, after the maniac wouldn't let you go near me for decades, then throwing Slayers my way and trying to get me to stick around…" He crouched into a fighting stance, "…this is all starting to look like a trap, to me."

"No, no, nothing like that," Angelus insisted, holding up his hands. "I just wanted to talk about this Valeyard secret with you, a little. See if I can't…"

The doors to the library burst open, and in ran the Doctor and Buffy. They skidded to a stop, when they saw who was already there.

"Ah," said the Doctor. He grabbed Buffy and spun back around, racing to the door. "On second thought — we'll just be leaving!"

Angelus clicked a button on a device the Goddess had given him, and the library doors slammed shut, barricading themselves, as if by magic, from the outside. The Doctor and Buffy tried the doors, anyways, with both brute strength and the sonic screwdriver, but with no success. They turned back around — now trapped.

"Why, exactly, are we here trying to find a vampire?" Buffy whispered to the Doctor, harshly, "while I'm still Blinovitched?"

"Well, you know — passing fancy," the Doctor explained, awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck, then beamed. "Right! Hello, Spike. I'm the Doctor, and this is my good friend…"

Spike clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Oh, I know your friend, alright. Buffy Summers. Slayer." His face morphed into his vampiric visage. "What do you say, Slayer? Got time to test yourself against the Slayer-Slayer?"

Angelus groaned, and face palmed. "The Slayer-Slayer?"

"Title still in progress," Spike decided.

He stepped forwards, eyes fixed on Buffy — who backed away, slowly.

"Please tell me you have a plan!" Buffy hissed at the Doctor. She swallowed, hard. "One that doesn't involve Slayer strength."

The Doctor glanced around himself. "Er… working on one?"

Angelus morphed his face, too. "How about we take them down, together, then?" he proposed to Spike. "Like the old days."

The vampires lunged for them. The Doctor yanked out his sonic and buzzed it at the bookcase, which wobbled off the wall and smashed down, in between the Doctor, Buffy, and the others attacking them.

"Right! Now, let's all calm down," the Doctor proposed, "and talk this through, like reasonable, normal people. We all want…"

Spike darted forwards and shoved the Doctor into the nearest wall — hard. "Sorry, hallucination — but I've had it with this smug git, already. Think I'm gonna pass on your hallucinogenic recommendation to keep him alive." He let go of the Doctor and turned on Buffy, his grin widening. "Besides. Can't pass up a chance to slay a Slayer."

He punched at Buffy — who tried to block with a kick, but she was so weak that the block did nothing. She tried to punch and kick him, again — but he bat her away, easily, and delivered a punch to her midsection, making her double up. Then he delivered another to her face.

The second time, she tried to duck, but her instincts worked too slowly. He struck her in the head, and she reeled, stumbling backwards, feeling dizzy.

Before Spike could strike at Buffy, again, a pinstripe suited man raced in between the two of them.

"Listen," the Doctor said, in a very low voice, "we've been looking for you, Spike — and, if you're here, I can only assume you're looking for us. We can…"

Spike punched him in the face, too. Spike wasn't going to stand here, yapping, and risk looking weak in front of other vampires. Who did this fop think he was talking to? A good guy?

"Already decided I'd rather just kill you and take my chances," Spike told the Doctor.

The Doctor ducked the next punch, and scooted — with Buffy — out of the way. He spotted the windows, and ran over to them, her hand in his. "Up the bookcases! Come on!"

They ran up the stairs and began to climb the bookcases, to get to the window.

"Oh, it's almost too easy," Angelus complained, as he jumped up the steps and ripped the bookcases off the wall.

The Doctor and Buffy went flying.

They slammed, hard, against the tiled floor, below.

Angelus climbed onto the railing on the upper part of the library, and launched himself off of it, landing directly beside the Doctor — who was already trying to get to his feet. Angelus grabbed the Doctor by the head and bashed it, repeatedly, against the ground. "Night-night, Time Lord."

At first, the Doctor struggled.

But, eventually, he went limp and passed out.

Buffy, meanwhile, tried to jump to her feet and run for Giles' office, but Spike was on her before she could get away. He grabbed her by the throat and hoist her up in the air, watching as she struggled and clawed at him, watching as she tried to get him to stop — but couldn't.

"Come on, love! Fight back!" Spike said, annoyed, as she kept growing weaker and weaker. "Call yourself a Slayer? It's like this isn't even a challenge."

He threw her away, and she crashed against the ground. Gasping, she tried to crawl away or climb to her feet, but Angelus kicked her in the head, and she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"Useless Slayer, that one," Spike humphed.

Angelus gestured at her. "I might have given her a pendant, earlier tonight, that zapped out her Slayer strength. And most of her non-Slayer strength. Sorry if I've deprived you of your sport." He grinned at Spike. "If anyone asks, though — I'll tell them she fought like the Queen of the Amazons!"

"You better," said Spike. He pointed at Angelus. "And don't tell the maniac you ran into me, right?"

Angelus mimed zipping his lips.

Spike walked over to the Slayer, his fangs bared, but… hesitated. Never mind that it had been an annoyingly easy and thoroughly unsatisfying fight — he also still didn't know if he was going to trust the hallucination that had told him that the world would end, unless he spoke to Buffy. Spike bent over the Slayer, but… paused. Hesitated, again.

"Want a bite?" Spike asked Angelus, instead. "Happy to share."

Angelus grinned. Then checked the clock and swore beneath his breath, grin falling away. "Love to. Really. But I'm on best behavior, at the moment, and she's got me on a schedule." Angelus grabbed up the Doctor, and hoisted him over a shoulder. "My latest obsession is a bit… schizophrenic, right now. Best tiptoe around her carefully." He adjusted the Doctor, so he could carry him more easily. "She said she needed me to grab this jerk and the resurrection gauntlet. So I'm off to find the gauntlet!"

Spike regarded Angelus, a little bit alarmed. "Schizophrenic?"

"Well, you know — the mind can break in so many different ways," said Angelus, with a grin. "It'll be interesting to see what I can do with her. Might even wind up better than Drusilla."

Angelus blew a kiss at the Slayer, then turned and barged out of the library — the barricaded doors falling away, as he pushed through them.

Spike stayed where he was for a long, long time, trying to decide what to do.

"Oh, bloody hell, who am I kidding?" Spike muttered, turning the Slayer over. "Angelus broke her, the first time — and she turned into a maniac who destroyed the world. Who knows what she'll do, now that he's going to break her all over again!" He hoisted the Slayer up in his arms. "And that means you, love, are coming with me."


	14. Chapter 14

 

"As per your request," Angelus announced, dragging in the body and dumping it on the floor of the mansion. "One unconscious Time Lord." He gave her a little bow.

One of the minions hauled in a giant velvet bag after him.

The Goddess looked between Angelus and the Doctor. "You didn't drink his blood, did you?"

"Not yet," Angelus said, with a grin. "But I'm looking forward to it."

The Goddess sighed. "Well, don't. He poisons it." She stepped up to Angelus, and gave him a coy smile. "I'll let you have a little more of mine, later — if you want. Since you were good."

Angelus narrowed his eyes on her. "Definitely liking the sound of that." He'd last tasted her blood when he first lost his soul, when she'd given him a small nibble whilst in bed with him. He couldn't wait to taste some more. "Funny thing, though. Ever noticed that your blood's got a bit of a zing to it that's remarkably similar to the taste of Dawn Summers' blood?"

The Goddess froze at the name 'Dawn Summers'.

"You did…  _what_  to Dawn?!"

"I mean, let me tell you," Angelus mused, "cute little Dawnie really can struggle and scream. You've gotta beat her half to death, to get her blood. And the taste is just so…!"

The Goddess, eyes blazing, grabbed him up and threw him through the nearest wall.

Angelus was laughing, the whole time.

"You are too easy!" Angelus said. He got up, dusting himself off from the wall debris. "Joke! Joke. You know about those, right?"

The Goddess glared at him, then shook her head, decided to ignore him, and, instead, administered an injection to the Doctor — to keep him knocked out, for now.

"Still — interesting reaction, isn't it?" Angelus said. "I mean, this is your family we're talking about, right? Your mother, the Slayer. Your father, the Time Lord. Your aunt, the Key. It's understandable that you might… I dunno…  _love_  them? In a human kind of way?"

"I don't do that, anymore," said the Goddess, through gritted teeth. "They're not my family. Just a means to an end."

"Yeah, but — you still call the Slayer 'Mom'," Angelus pointed out. He gestured at the Doctor's limp body. "You call him 'Father'."

The Goddess rolled her eyes. "It doesn't mean anything." She sighed, and threw out the needle. "It's just a quirk of this brain — a leftover vestige from Seo. She liked to think of them with those titles. I have her memories, her thoughts, and her brain, so I do, too." She smirked at the Doctor, walking over to him, and inspecting him. "Certainly seems to annoy them, though."

"So you don't care… at all? Nothing? No human feeling left in you?" Angelus hopped over to the body on the floor. "Tell you what, then?" He propped up the Doctor. "How about we skip the caldera, and you can just torture this guy to death, right now? I'm sure you've got a way to stop the regeneration."

"That isn't the plan," the Goddess snapped.

Angelus reflected. "No?" He tilted his head. "Or…  _was_  it the plan, before your old-self started barging in and nattering into your ear? And now, you're working to  _her_  plan?"

The Goddess hesitated.

"Tell you what," Angelus said, his voice lowering to a growl, "how about we kill Dawn Summers  _and_ the Time Lord, forget all this caldera stuff, and you and I can go on a little vacation together?" He flashed her a look of pure lust. "Not that we'd be seeing much outside the bedroom."

The Goddess went very still, as she considered this.

"Ooh, that got you thinking," said Angelus. He grabbed her by the wrist, and yanked her up to her feet. "You know, you don't need a caldera to suck the humanity from your soul." He moved his hands to her waist and whispered into her ear, "Give me a bit of time — and I'll get you there, myself."

The Goddess' stare grew bitter. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?" She thrust him away from her. "You think this is easy? Think I just get a moment of happiness, a bit of sex, and it's all over?" She shook her head. "Seo is good at the soul thing. Too good. She gave a friggin'  _cyberplanner_ a soul! And that's the antithesis of everything a cyberplanner is." She clenched her jaw. "Seo is tricky. She's clever. And she's more dangerous than you could possibly imagine. If there's the smallest spark of her in me, I need it burned to nothing — now! Before it's too late."

Angelus didn't know what a cyberplanner was, but he figured it was good information to catalogue.

"Oh, I don't have time for this! The plan's off-schedule enough, as is," the Goddess complained, checking a mental clock. She stepped away from Angelus, and looked around. "Where's the resurrection gauntlet?"

Angelus grinned, and pulled it out of the velvet bag.

The Goddess snatched it from him. Looked it over, a little reverently. "It's been such a long, long time," she muttered. "The gauntlet that burned her to death. The gauntlet that brought me back." She nodded, in approval. Then tucked it under her arm, and kicked the Doctor, as she passed him, heading out of the room. "Get the Time Twit loaded into the van. We're heading out." She paused. Then, with a small smile, added — to Angelus, "If you need a way to alleviate your boredom, on the road, feel free to torture him in the back. See how much you can make him regret ever helping the Kalderash give you that soul."

"Oh, I think I will," said Angelus. He waited until she left the room. Then, he rubbed his hands. "Thing is… I don't think  _he's_  going to be the one doing most of the screaming."

He reached into the large velvet bag that had produced the resurrection gauntlet, to check on his other prisoner. The young girl was curled up in a ball, inside the bag, bound hand and foot.

"Pleasant dreams, little Dawnie," Angelus said, gazing down at the one person whose pain could  _truly_  hurt the Goddess. "By the time I'm done with you, I think our Goddess will just about have flipped her lid."

* * *

Buffy opened her eyes.

There, in front of her, was an all-too-pale face with a cigarette, bleached hair, and soulless eyes. "Bout time you woke up." He took a drag on his cigarette. "What do I look like? A hotel?"

Buffy grabbed him by the arms and threw him over her shoulder, so he tumbled into the far side of the mausoleum. She sprung back to her feet, grabbing for a stake out of her back pocket.

"Hey, Slayer strength is back," Buffy remarked. She shrugged. "Guess there's no better time to use it."

She ran at the vampire.

"No, wait! I saved your life!" Spike shouted at her, holding up his hand. "You were defenseless. I could have killed you — but I didn't!"

Buffy paused, stake above him. "Huh." She lowered the stake. "Good point." She crossed her arms. "So? What do you want?"

"What do I want?" He looked at her like she was crazy. "What do any of us want? That Goddess is a bloody lunatic. I want her out."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "So, a vampire who's got common sense. Wow. Color me impressed."

"Look, I got a message," said Spike, raising his hands, to show he wasn't going to attack her. "She spoke to me, before Angelus burned out her soul. No idea how. Hallucination, I guess. She said to come to that library at Sunnydale at exactly 3:15 AM, on January 12, and tell the Slayer that…" He frowned, and patted down his pockets. "Now, where did I put that?"

He started emptying out the contents of his pockets onto the bier.

Buffy put a hand to her head. "Last night, in the library…" She remembered that there'd been a fight. She hadn't been able to defend herself — because she'd been Blinovitched. But the Doctor had tried to…

Buffy's eyes went wide.

The Doctor! She'd forgotten all about the Doctor!

"Where's the Doctor?" Buffy asked, uneasily.

"Just a sec… think this might be it," said Spike, unfolding a scrap of paper. He squinted. Then nodded, and handed it to her, while taking another drag on his cigarette. "Yeah. Here you go. Spacial coordinates, or… I dunno, something with a lot of bloody numbers in it."

Buffy took it.

It looked old — yellowed with age. But it definitely had a set of numbers on it — space numbers. It also had a name: "Drusilla."

"Spike," Buffy said, more urgently, putting the paper away. "Where is the Doctor?"

"Skinny bloke?" Spike asked. "Tall? Pinstripe suit? Bleepy pen thing?"

Buffy nodded.

Spike flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Forget him, love. He's gone."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. She yanked her stake out of her back pocket, threateningly.

"No, really — he's good as dead," Spike insisted, raising his hands, again. "Got that, Goldilocks? Dead. As in Angelus is up to his little mind games, again, and when he does that sort of thing, there's never any chance that anyone's gonna get out of it alive."

"Mind games? Against me?" Buffy asked.

Spike gave a laugh. "Guess again, mate. It's always the same woman, with him."

Buffy froze. "Seo."

"And she was already a bloomin' maniac to start with," Spike said. "So when his latest little mind game session is over — I can only imagine what'll be left."

Buffy sat down on the bier. Angelus was trying to drive the Goddess crazy? And she wasn't exactly sane, before! This was like poking a sleeping tiger. No, actually, scratch that. It was like poking a live, armed atomic bomb.

"Spike," said Buffy, "tell me everything."


	15. Chapter 15

When Buffy went back to report to Giles, she found that Giles' house had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

"No," Buffy breathed, sprinting towards it. "Please, no! Please!"

Frantically, she dug through the rubble, hoping to find any hint of Giles or Dawn. She couldn't let this be how it ended for them! She just couldn't!

She heard a groan, from one of the bigger pieces of rubble. Raced over and lifted it up. She found Giles wedged into a gap formed by a fallen piece of roof that had toppled onto the fridge. He was beaten up and bruised, but mostly uninjured.

"I'm so terribly sorry, Buffy," Giles said, as Buffy pulled him out. "There was nothing I could do. Angelus took the resurrection gauntlet — and your sister. I tried to stop him, but…"

"What?!" Buffy shouted.

Ten minutes later, Giles was sitting in Willow's living room, drinking a cup of tea, Buffy and Willow by his side. A minute after that, Xander burst through Willow's front door, looking a little frantic.

"Hey — is he okay?" Xander asked. "No broken somethings?"

"Somethings all look okay," Buffy verified. "He's sort of at the tea-drinking, scone-eating stage." She paused. Reflected. "What is a scone, anyways?"

"I think it's like a crumpet?" Willow suggested. When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. "Don't look at me — I'm just throwing out English-sounding words."

Giles cleared his throat. "Buffy," he said, to interrupt their conversation. "This vampire… Spike. You said he told you something crucial?"

"He told me a lot of something crucials," Buffy said. She raised up a scrap of paper she'd plucked from her pocket. "This is for the Doctor. I don't get why it'll help, but it's the outer space coordinates for where my daughter hid Drusilla, apparently."

Willow frowned. "Okay, question," she said. "This all happened a hundred and thirty-eight years ago, right? Like, 1860? So — why are we looking for Drusilla? She's gotta be dead, by now."

"And the Doctor did mention, last night, that his TARDIS had been destroyed," Giles added. "So you couldn't get there, even if you wanted to."

"Yeah, this is all with the good pointy-ness, but… the Doctor probably still wants it," said Buffy. "I don't know." She put away the scrap of paper, again. "Spike also told me that Angel and the Goddess are heading off to throw the resurrection gauntlet into something called a 'caldera'. And, at the moment, Angel has both Dawn and the Doctor, so…"

"A caldera is a crater left by a massive volcanic eruption," said Giles.

"Oh! I read something about this!" Willow raced off to her room, and grabbed a book. She came back, the book open. "Yeah, there are a lot of different calderas. Like there's one in California — the Long Valley Caldera. No one really knows how that one works, because the magma is actually kind of solid, but still really hot, underground." She turned the page, and grinned, feeling smart. "Oh, and there's one in Yellowstone! That's a really big one. A supervolcano! And the magma chamber is filling up so much that it's tilting the lake — which means it's going to go off, like, now."

"Now?" Buffy asked.

"Well, not  _now_ now — more like geological-time now," Willow qualified. "That means, like — within the next 10,000 years."

Buffy and Xander exchanged a look.

"Why do I think the Goddess doesn't care about minding the rules of geological time?" Xander asked. "And she's going to make 'now' mean, like,  _now_?"

"She hasn't cared about any other rules of time, so far. What's to stop her screwing with supervolcano-time?" Buffy turned back to Willow. "How big is this explosion going to be?"

Willow flipped a few pages. "Uh… okay, it says here… it'll wipe out a whole bunch of North America, to start with. And then the rest of the world will get so cold that there'll be widespread starvation and death. Like another nuclear winter, except longer!" She closed the book, and forced a smile onto her face. "So uh… California snowball fight, anyone?"

Buffy sighed. "I'm going after them." She headed for the door. "I have to save my sister."

"No, wait, Buffy!" Willow cried, jumping to her feet. Buffy paused, looking back at her. Willow shuffled. "Well, it's just… I could stand to see a little Wyoming."

"I could stand to see a little  _anywhere_ besides Sunnydale," Xander put in. "Unlike the Buffster, I've never been outside this town far enough to see past radioactive-crater-sylvania." He stood up, beside Willow. "So if you're road-tripping — I'm in."

Willow's eyes lit up. "Oh! I've got, like, fifty bags of Fritos!" She ran off, and re-entered with a gigantic cardboard box filled, to the brim, with 1950's style Fritos bags. "They might be a little stale, but whatever!" She ran back, to get the other boxes. "I've never been out of Sunnydale, either, before! This is going to be so cool!"

Buffy stared. Then shook her head. "Uh, Will?" she called after her. " _Why_ do you have fifty bags of Fritos? And  _how_?"

Giles sighed, and took one last sip of his tea. "While you're puzzling out the mysteries of that," he said, getting up, "I'll go see if I can find us an appropriately radiation-shielded vehicle."

* * *

Dawn had no idea where she was, when she opened her eyes. Just that it was cold, it was bumpy, it was moving, and she was tied up. Oh, and it was dark. Really dark.

She squinted, through the darkness.

That was when a flashlight shone in her eyes.

"Hey, stop it!" Dawn complained.

The flashlight moved, to illuminate the face of the man who was holding it. Angel. He gave her an unreadable smile. "Hello, there, Dawnie. Remember me?"

"Uh, yeah, duh," Dawn said, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me Buffy told you to tie me up to keep me out of danger. Because that's total whatever not cool stuff."

"Actually," said Angel, bending down, "I was sort of thinking you and I could play a little game." He took out a blindfold and tied it around her eyes. Then shoved a gag into her mouth. "Now, I'm gonna stab some things through you — and you tell me if they're sharp or not." He paused. "Actually, you don't need to tell me. I think the muffled, terrified screaming will do that, for me."

Then Dawn felt something slice through her arm.

She screamed.


	16. Chapter 16

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, the moment he heard the muffled screams.

It was dark — very dark — but he knew it was a girl screaming, and that was all that mattered. A torchlight shone, in the distance, illuminating Angel's form.

"Angel," the Doctor warned, as he struggled to get free from his restraints — rope, fortunately. "Let her go."

Angelus looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, you're awake." He laughed. "Sorry, Time Lord — but you're not on the menu, today. Got a much better meal waiting for me."

The flashlight splashed, briefly, over Dawn's face.

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath. Ooh. This was bad. This was beyond bad!

"Angelus," the Doctor said, struggling, even harder, against his restraints, "I know what you're doing, and I know why. But you're playing with fire!"

Angelus glanced back at him. Then stabbed Dawn, again — and wiggled the knife in her arm. "Oh? Enlighten me."

Dawn writhed, trying to scream through the gag.

"First," the Doctor demanded, feeling the ropes around his hands start to loosen, "stop this."

"Nah, not actually that interested," Angelus decided, pulling the knife out of Dawn's arm and trying to find another good place to stab.

"All right! All right!" the Doctor said, talking fast. "You're jealous. Simple as that!  _You're_ the Angel who broke Drusilla — but, in this timeline, you've discovered that your counterpart has broken someone far more insightful, powerful, and dangerous. So you've decided to take ownership of the situation by breaking her, all over again." His eyes narrowed, and he tugged at his restraints. "But if you push her too far over the edge, there won't be a happy ending for any of us. Not even you."

"You think?" Angelus laughed. He stabbed Dawn, again, and she gave a muffled shrieked, trying to kick herself away from him.

"That 'Goddess' of yours is incredibly dangerous," the Doctor warned, wriggling with his restraints. "While you're mucking about with knives and psychology, she's dealing with quantum temporal mechanics and higher dimensional calculations that could crack this whole planet in half. You might not understand her actions — but I'm betting every single thing she does has been carefully calculated to have precisely the right mathematical effect. In a chaos theory, higher-dimensional-causality, looks-suspiciously-supernatural sort of way."

Angelus yanked the knife out, and Dawn whimpered. "Pull the other one."

"Pulled any meteors out of orbit, yet?" the Doctor prompted. "Asteroids, maybe?"

Angelus hesitated.

"None of this is 'magic', Angelus," the Doctor told him. "If she summons an asteroid, it's because she's found a way to budge it out of its intended orbit. When she waves her hand and creates lightning, it's because she's creating an electrostatic charge in the air. She's using mathematics and chaos theory and higher dimensional causality to an unprecedented degree — beyond anything that even  _I've_ ever seen. And I suspect that's only the beginning."

Angelus withdrew the knife from Dawn's arm. "What do you mean, the beginning?"

"In 2001, your Goddess is planning to stage an Ascension that'll burn this planet — and probably most of this spiral arm of the Milky Way — to cinders," the Doctor said. "Alongside that, she's got a plan to open a transdimensional portal and use Dawn, Elizabeth, and myself to gain a supernatural hold over space, time, and matter. Her power will be… unimaginable!" He locked eyes with Angelus. "And the fact that you don't look at all surprised means that you already know all this — and she's promised you something."

"The info didn't come from her, exactly," said Angelus. "But I know about the plan. And I'm looking forward to having her turn me into a god."

The Doctor barked out a laugh. "Turn  _you_  into…?" He struggled, again, with the ropes. "Do think this through, Angelus.  _The_  Goddess.  _Singular_. She isn't planning on Ascending anyone else!"

"Not at the moment, no," said Angelus. "But, by the time I get through with her, she'll be so desperate and pleading and broken, I'll have her in the palm of my hand." He turned back to Dawn. "So, if you don't mind…"

He raised up the knife, pondering where to stab, this time.

"No, wait, wait, wait!" the Doctor cried. He could feel the ropes loosening, a little more, around his wrists. "All right, new story. 2004, I arrived in LA. Ever heard of a vampire named Razor?"

"What of him?" asked Angelus, pausing and looking back.

"He's a bit keen on breaking people," the Doctor said. "Kidnapped me. Drained my blood every day, for a good six months or so — and decided to break me. Want to know what happened?"

Angelus sighed. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me, anyways."

"I broke," the Doctor said. "I snapped. I lost my temper. And that's why, after 2005, you won't find vampires on Earth, anymore." He met Angelus' eyes with his own. "Because I wiped every single last one of them from the face of the planet. Took me about 60 seconds."

That  _did_  make Angelus pause.

"The Meyomelae Krvas  _isn't_ Drusilla, Angelus," the Doctor warned. "If you break her, you may not like what happens, at the end."

Angelus looked at the Doctor, carefully. Considering.

Then, finally, he nodded. "All right," he said. "You've convinced me." He turned to the Doctor. "Or, at least, you've convinced me that  _you're_  a much bigger threat than I ever imagined. 60 seconds, huh?"

He walked over to the Doctor, his knife glinting in his hand, as it caught the light from the flashlight.

"Let's see…" Angelus mused, kneeling down, beside the Doctor's prone form. "How do I kill you, to make sure you don't regenerate?" He tapped the knife against his lips. "Hm…" He grinned. "Or should I just start cutting, until I think of…?"

"One thing, first," the Doctor interrupted, hastily, finally getting his hands free. He darted his eyes over to the front of the van. "Drunk any of her blood, yet?"

"Just a taste," Angel said. He raised up the knife, to make the first incision. "Maybe, by the time I'm done with you," he slashed the knife downwards, "I'll have more than just a  _taste_ of Time Lord..."

The Doctor yanked his feet into the way of the knife, so the knife sliced through the ropes binding his legs. Angelus growled, and leapt at him, tackling him to the ground, knife raised above his chest.

The Doctor grabbed him by the shoulders, and smacked his head against Angelus' forehead.

Angelus reeled back, in pain. Then, suddenly, he shrieked, as he jumped, waving his arms frantically. "It's like… fire! Burning through my whole body!" His eyes grew wide with panic, as his arms began to emit a very faint golden glow.

"Unfortunately, can't trigger the full thing, like I did with Razor," the Doctor said, popping to his feet and running to the other side of the van, towards Angel's other prisoner. "Not  _my_ blood, after all. And she's dosed you a bit too carefully." He grabbed up Dawn, then stepped back, buzzing the sonic at the back doors on the van.

The back doors flew open.

At the same time, the door connecting the two sections of the van burst open, and the Goddess stepped into the back of the van, clearly responding to Angelus' shriek. She took one look at the Doctor and — more importantly — the fact that Dawn was there and what had happened to her, and the Goddess' face filled with rage.

"You," the Goddess growled, turning on Angelus, "brought  _her_  along, to…!"

"Sounds like you've got a bit of domestics to work out, Angelus-be-dangelous," the Doctor said, with a wink. He wrapped Dawn in his tan trench coat. "And, as I always say — I don't do domestics!"

And, with that, he and Dawn jumped from the back of the van.

He used his own body to shield hers, carefully rolling them as they landed on the road, behind the speeding van. It was only thanks to his Time Lord physiology that they weren't killed on impact.

Dawn, in his arms, was sobbing, consumed by pain and betrayal and shock and absolute terror.

The Doctor sat her up and tore off her blindfold and gag. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said to her. "I am so, so sorry, Dawn Summers." He removed the coat, to examine the deep gashes on her arms. He hissed. "Better do something about those. Nasty."

He heard the screech of brakes, up ahead — followed by the shouts of a very angry Hell Goddess.

"But not as nasty as that," the Doctor said, glancing behind him. He got to his feet, and helped Dawn to hers. "Can you walk?"

Dawn nodded, through tears.

"Then, Dawn Summers, I recommend we run!" the Doctor cried, as they sprinted off the road and towards some sort of cover.


	17. Chapter 17

They climbed through a desolate, deserted landscape of mud and boulders and the beginnings of trees and grass, sprouting up. It was a different mix of species of flora than the Doctor was used to seeing on 20th century Earth… but he supposed that was natural selection in action, what with the nuclear fallout, nuclear winter, and increased radiation levels due to ozone depletion.

Dawn stumbled, her hand clutching his, tightly. She seemed woozy from blood loss, and still a little in shock.

The Doctor tugged them behind a boulder, where they couldn't be seen so easily. He took out his sonic, and began using it to disinfect the wounds and coax the sliced-up skin back together. He didn't think he'd have enough time to do this, properly, before they were found.

"I… I want to go home," Dawn sobbed. "Please."

The Doctor heard the sound of people searching for them, and knew he had no good options. He shushed Dawn, gently. "Look at me, Dawn. Look at me."

She did.

"I'm going to need you to be brave," the Doctor told her. "Very, very brave. And very, very strong." He handed her his sonic screwdriver. "This will help with your cuts. Press the button, and point it at the gash, until it closes up."

"But…" Dawn started.

The Doctor shushed her. He could hear the others coming closer.

"I can't stay here," the Doctor whispered. "If I find her before she finds me, I can convince her to leave you behind — away from Angelus. If she finds us, first, there's no hope."

Dawn stared at him, terrified.

"If you've been taken, your sister will be chasing after you." The Doctor pointed. "The road is that way. When we're gone, count to a thousand, then go to the road and buzz the sonic into the air. It'll tell your sister where you are."

Dawn opened her mouth, to speak, but the Doctor shushed her. He could hear the search growing even closer than before. He  _had_  to get them away from Dawn. That was the most important thing.

"Don't move," the Doctor mouthed to her.

Then, he walked out, hands in his pockets, and a grin on his face. He headed to the approaching search-party, comprised of some random alien-demon-ish things, a few of those sack-clothed minions that liked to follow the Goddess around, and — of course — the Goddess and Angelus.

The Doctor wished it were a clear, bright, sunny day, so Angelus couldn't be out and about. But the dark clouds hid the sun from view, and provided a cover for vampires and evil things.

"Hello, there!" the Doctor said, with a beam. "Hope you don't mind my popping off. Just thought I should stretch my legs, get some fresh air…"

Angelus sniffed around, smelling for Dawn's blood in the air. His eyes looked savage.

"Why are you giving yourself up to us?" the Goddess asked, her face completely indifferent. She gestured at Angelus. "You do know I'm going to let him torture you mercilessly, while we're on the road, right? It's no more than I've been doing to all your other incarnations."

The Doctor met her eyes, evenly. "It bothered you, what he did to Dawn. Didn't it?"

The Goddess fell silent.

Angelus caught the scent of Dawn's blood in his nostrils, and began to dart out towards her — but the Goddess reached over and caught him, with a single hand. She held him back.

"Dawn is a wonderfully human, energetic, and incredibly brave child," the Doctor said. He threw out his arms. "I'm not. That's why I gave myself up."

Angelus tore himself from the Goddess' grip. "I know where she is! I can…!"

"Leave her," the Goddess demanded. She turned, gesturing at the minions and alien-demon-things, who responded to her gesture by throwing a net around the Doctor. "I've got what I wanted."

"But the girl…!" Angelus insisted.

"My radiation protection can cover people regardless of whether or not I'm around them," the Goddess replied, beginning to walk back to the van. "And her sister will be along, soon enough. Dawn Summers will be protected, and her blood will remain perfectly fine for its intended purpose."

The minions and the alien-demon-things began dragging the net containing the Doctor after them, following her back.

Angelus scowled, and ran to catch up with her. "Intended purpose, you say." He shook his head. "When push comes to shove, and you're about to open that portal, with the knife in your hand — will you  _really_  be able to kill her? Or even just hurt her?"

The Goddess hesitated. A hint of fear spread across her face.

"Or will you start crying," said Angelus, with overly dramatic mock-sorrow, "and hug poor little Dawnie and tell her that you can't do it and you're so, so sorry, and…"

The Goddess turned on him and smacked him across the face. "She means  _nothing_  to me!"

Angelus laughed. "I saw your face, when I cut her up. You won't hurt her. You  _can't_! You  _care_  about her."

"And is that such a bad thing?" the Doctor cut in, from his spot being dragged around in a net.

The Goddess flicked her eyes over to him.

"I know why you wanted to take me, specifically, on this trip with you, Meyomelae Krvas," the Doctor told her. "You're confused. You're afraid. I understand that. I can help you to deal with that. You can accept what you're feeling and become better, because of it." He oomfed, as his net was dragged over a rock. Then pretended he hadn't. "You were  _happy_ , when you were Seo. Do you remember that? Being really and truly happy? Being loved so strongly, and loving back? Feeling so proud, because you'd been ever-so-clever and had saved an entire planet?"

The Goddess said nothing.

"It isn't all bad, having a soul," the Doctor insisted. "You can get those good parts back. You can be really and truly happy. You can be really and truly loved."

"She doesn't care about…!" Angelus laughed.

"I think she does," said the Doctor. He locked eyes with the Goddess. "You know what Angelus is trying to do to you. You're not stupid. How about, before you decide to do anything too drastic to get rid of your last few bits of soul, you ignore him and have a bit of a chat with me, instead? Just to…"

Angelus responded by grabbing her by the arms, and giving her a passionate, hungry kiss. "Or," he whispered, his forehead against hers, "you can shut that idiot up and have something  _better_ than a chat — with me."

The Goddess drew away from him and hesitated, looking between Angelus and the Doctor.

"Why do you need what that idiot's offering," Angelus continued, "when you've got the whole tortured remnants of humanity worshiping you? Men and women cower in your presence. Vampires obey your every word. Even demons tremble before your…"

She grabbed him by the arms and kissed him — making her choice.

The Doctor sighed, looking away. "Blimey. One-track mind! Like mother, like daughter!"

When the Goddess finally broke away from the kiss, the Doctor tried to get through to her, again — but she was done listening to him. She waved at her minions. "Knock him out and put him in the front. I have better things to do than listen to his nattering."

"You're really choosing sex over sanity?!" the Doctor cried. "Honestly! I know you're part-human, Seo, but can't you…?!"

The minions knocked him unconscious.

Angelus grinned, as the Goddess nearly dragged him back to the van. He had a feeling that he was going to wind up just fine, in 2001. Absolutely fine!

* * *

She lay in the arms of her lover, wide awake. He clutched her to him, possessively. Whispered into her ear, "You are so human, now."

She said nothing.

She stared straight ahead.

He bit her earlobe. "Could you feel your aunt's blood on my hands, as we did it? You begged me for more. All that tingle, all that zing, from a drop of Key blood — and it left you begging."

Still, she said nothing.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Every moment that passes, you feel it more and more, don't you?" Angelus whispered. "The pull of conscience. The chains of humanity. Feel that pain, embrace it — and despise yourself, Queen of Darkness."

"This… wasn't the plan," she whispered. She closed her eyes, to focus herself, again. Take herself away from the emotions and the pain and the longing and the fear. The numbers. Just think about the numbers.

Feel the pull of the future, the wiggles and wobbles of time. She knew what it all meant. She could draw out mathematical twelve dimensional models of what it all meant, and what she would have to do, to make it happen.

You can be really and truly happy. You can be really and truly loved.

"No, it's not the plan," Angelus agreed, wrapping his arms around her, even more tightly. "It's  _so_  much better."

She shook him off, and sat up. She suddenly felt so exposed, so cold, so… divorced from the numbers. She needed to stop this. She needed to think clearly, again.

"Come back to bed," Angelus urged her. "Show me how much better you can do it than your mommy."

She shuddered.

Then she wondered why she'd shuddered.

She looked down at herself — at the bloody handprints he'd smeared across her body. She got flashbacks from dreams that had come to her night after night after night, dreams of losing Dawn and having it feel like someone had gouged a great big hole out of her and left her empty. Dreams of watching Dawn die and then screaming into the heavens and willing them to burn, because of the immense despair that had overcome her.

Dreams of sobbing into her pillow, and not being able to stop.

"This isn't me," the Goddess said, running her hands through her hair. "That's not me. It's her. Seo. It's one of her mental traps!"

"But what if it  _is_  you?" Angelus purred. "What if she's making you into her, and soon — you'll be able to feel every single horrible deed you've done?" He waltzed his fingers across the back of her spine. "Imagine the grief and loss you'd feel from several billion deaths. Imagine coping with the deaths of everyone who ever gave your friends and family hope, salvation, or happiness. Imagine stepping out onto the wasteland you've created and feeling every ounce of pain from it."

"No," the Goddess breathed, shaking with fear.

"Are you a monster, my love?" Angelus asked her. "Do you like being a monster? Do you hate yourself for being one, but know you always will be — just to steal one more tender kiss?"

The Goddess jumped away from him. She rummaged for her clothing, fumbling to put something on. She had a sudden urge to dig out her old sunglasses — and place them atop her head. A sudden urge to just run outside and wait until morning and let the sunlight trickle down upon her, as she watched the way it shone through the leaves and made the dust-mites dance. She had the sudden urge to just get out of here and run and run and never look back.

"You're so scared," Angelus told her.

And she was.

"You're falling apart," Angelus told her.

And she was.

"You want to be the Goddess," Angelus told her. "But look at you. Shivering, cold, and in the dark. You're not a goddess. Not anymore. Just little Say-say — the Slayer's daughter. The one who cries. The one who feels guilt. Pain-filled, fully mortal, terrified and pathetic little Say-say."

And she was.

She threaded her hands through her hair. And screamed.


	18. Chapter 18

"You know," Xander commented, munching Fritos in the back seat of the car, and pointing out the window, "I've gotta say — going on a road trip to stop an apocalypse? I'm starting to think we should turn  _all_  of Buffy's boyfriends evil!"

Willow sighed, and stole a Frito from him. "Xander, ix-nay on the oyfriend-bay," she hissed. Then, plastering her nose against the glass of the car, "Ooh! Bison!"

"Yes, if we could please leave off sightseeing for the moment," Giles told them all, from the front seat, driving, "and resume our research — it would be most helpful. If our information is accurate, then we are facing a potentially catastrophic geological catastrophe." He gripped his hands a little tighter on the steering wheel. "And, unfortunately, I don't know nearly enough geology to know how to stop it."

Buffy, in the front passenger seat, reached back, to grab a Frito from Xander's bag, too. "So underground geology expertise… not required for Watcheriness," she said. "Even though the Hellmouth… source of massive evilness… is underground." She popped the Frito into her mouth. "I think I've just found the flaw in your Watcher-training, Giles."

Giles said nothing to this, because he didn't want to admit that Buffy was right. Or that he had failed geology in school, which is why he had decided to go into magic and demonology in the first place.

"Willow, just… read the books, please," Giles said, as he kept driving. "It's really quite important that we…"

Buffy, spotting a blur they'd just passed on the road, grabbed Giles by the arm. " _Stop!_ "

Giles slammed on the brakes.

Buffy raced out of the car, and ran backwards, along the edge of the road. She could barely stop herself from breaking down in utter thankfulness.

"You're okay!" Buffy said, swooping Dawn into a gigantic hug. "I was so worried."

That was when she realized… Dawn still had tears streaming down her face.

And her skin had these marks all over it, like she'd been scratched all across her arms.

"Dawn, what…?" Buffy asked.

Dawn broke down into sobs, again. "I was in the dark and it was so bad, Buffy, and it hurt so much and there was a knifey thing and Angel hurt me — he hurt me, Buffy! And then there was more knifey stuff and I was so scared and then there was wooshiness and I ran but then there was a whole backiness thing and I thought I was gonna die, alone, out here and no one was gonna come!"

Buffy cradled her in her arms. She thought she got the gist of what Dawn was saying.

She didn't like it, at all.

"The Goddess hurt you?" Buffy asked. "But I thought the Goddess got all weepy whenever she…?"

Dawn sniffed. "She was really mad. She looked like she was gonna beat up Angel for it. And then she didn't let him look for me or take me. She just said she was gonna do other bad stuff to people and then she did a whole net thing and then she left."

Buffy was still having trouble working out what Dawn was talking about, but she had the horrible feeling that slicing up Dawn had been  _Angel's_  idea, and not the Goddess', at all.

"I'm starting to realize why all the Doctors have been all with the murderous rage around Angel," Buffy muttered. She took the sonic screwdriver from Dawn. "Where's the Doctor?"

Dawn didn't answer. She just pointed further up the road.

"He saved you from Angel and got you out," Buffy guessed, "but he knew the Goddess would track him down, so he gave himself up, in the hopes that he could convince her to keep Angelus away from you."

That sounded like something the Doctor would do.

Dawn nodded.

"At least it looks like the sonic healed you up," Buffy said, looking at her cuts. She took her sister by the hand and lead her back to the car. "Come on. Xander and Willow have Fritos. You can road trip with them."

* * *

**1875**

Seo — ensouled, but bloody, beaten, and tortured — laughed. Her chains shook, as her laughter was peppered with violent coughing.

Angelus was a little taken aback. "Laughter, little Say-say? Is that an act of defiance, I hear?"

"K zero… zero A, four X, twenty five Q six two… eight G nine five…" Seo rasped, between coughs. "So beautiful. So bright." She squinted into the distance. "See… touch… taste… the numbers…"

Angelus shook his head. "Stupid, pathetic little Say-say." He back-handed her across the face. "There are no numbers, here! Look at where you are! A dingy basement, where rats bite your feet at night, and where I torment you by day." He took her chin in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "And yet — babbling nonsense, cut up, injured, deprived of all hope — you are so much more beautiful than you ever were, before."

Seo just coughed. She was weak. Drained. Unable to even stand. "Numbers… such beautiful… incredible…" A tear rolled down her cheek. "Do you see them, too, Drusilla? Can you feel the…?"

Angelus jerked her in her chains. "Drusilla. You said Drusilla!"

"Twilight taught me so well," said Seo, her eyes unfocused. "Five E, Four J… Possibility. Probability. U seven, eight Y, twelve P… end of the world. Dawn to dusk. Two Z, eight M, O nine… Reach, reach, Seo! Touch the numbers… tear the neurons… five E, one J… so beautiful, the numbers taste so beautiful, because she has become so beautiful…"

Angelus shook her. "Drusilla, you mean? Where is she? What did you do with her?"

"Block five: twelve E five nine six, seven S, one M, P one eight four, O one two eleven," Seo choked out. "Can't stop. Have to keep going. Finish block five. X one zero four, one W, zero E eight seven, five L, N seven, nine A, E eight, nine two, three zero…"

Angelus grabbed a whip, and flayed her with it.

She cried out, weakly.

"What did you do with Drusilla?" Angelus demanded.

Seo rasped, in pain. "End — very end… six C, eight S, twenty six L… there. There! A break in the numbers. Confusion. Insanity. Chaos." She coughed, again, wincing in pain. "D eighty, six two, eight five… yes… yes! Break through. Live, again. Seven twelve. Eighteen five. I can see. Evict her. Save them all! H five, ten two… no, no, no! Not that! Not there!" She struggled, as if caught in a nightmare. "Help me, Drusilla — oh, please,  _please_  help me!"

He flayed her, again, listening to her scream.

"Have to…! Must…!" Seo breathed, when he paused. "Dawn, so much dawn! Dizzy dreams. Numbers. Feel the numbers… L one, F twelve, E seven, nine five…"

He whipped her, hard, another time.

"Tell me," Angelus demanded, sternly, "where Drusilla is. What did you do with her?!"

"I can see her," Seo whispered. "Six E, two C… Her soul echoes through the numbers. So many numbers! So much light! Library!" Tears appeared inside her eyes. "Catch my soul when it falls, Drusilla. For it shall be a shooting star in the night sky."


	19. Chapter 19

 

**Now**

"Finally awake?"

The Doctor blinked. He'd expected to find himself chained up and on the verge of getting tortured by Angelus — but he wasn't. The net was gone. His hands were free. His legs were free. He was sitting in the front of the van, beside the Goddess — who was driving.

Angelus was nowhere to be seen.

"This is a self-driving vehicle, yes?" the Doctor asked, noticing the controls around the steering wheel.

"Driving gives me time to think," the Goddess replied, her eyes fixed on the road. "Besides — the roads aren't always in the best repair, now that the world's ended. Corrections have to be made, sometimes."

The Doctor knew that there was more than enough technology, in this thing, to get around obstacles like that. Hell, there was enough tech, here, to have this van launch itself into the air and fly!

But that was neither here nor there.

"Angelus…?" the Doctor asked.

The Goddess glanced behind herself. "In the back, being bored." She returned her eyes to the road, and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "You know, I remember when this landscape was all fallout and nuclear winter. You could drive and drive — for miles — and see nothing but desolation." She took in the shrubs and grass, around her. "It's growing back, now. It just looks strange and empty, with humanity scoured from its surface. It's just like it was when the Master took over — after the Toclafane and the evacuations and the labor camps."

The Doctor frowned. "Ah. You… remember that." He combed a hand through his hair. "How… much of the Year do you…?"

"All of it."

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath, as the landscape blurred into a green smudge, around them.

"I remember the torture," the Goddess whispered, her voice growing faint, her eyes fixed on the road. "The pain. The days and days of hopelessness. It felt just like that, when Angelus caught me, in 1875. Everything I had was useless — my cleverness, my experience, my gadgets, my strength. He got around it all, so easily. I couldn't figure out how."

"I'm sorry," said the Doctor.

"I was so,  _so_  scared." Her hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter, so her knuckles turned white. "I  _am_ so, so scared."

The Doctor glanced at her. "You don't have to be scared. Gaining a soul made you happy before. It might make you happy again."

The Goddess gave a mirthless laugh. "You know I wiped out half my universe, back home, right?" She shook her head. "I didn't remember that when I was Seo. Not the Eternal Sacrifice. Not the Zealots of Urgoz Nutcolz. Not even the waves of still time. Now, I remember it all. If I gain a soul… if I could  _feel_  all those deaths on my conscience…"

She shuddered.

"Might make you less likely to restart your war, when you get back to your home universe," the Doctor proposed. "Billions would be spared."

The Goddess said nothing. Her hands were shaking.

The Doctor studied her, curiously. "You  _are_  planning to go home and take revenge, right?"

Still, the Goddess said nothing. Her eyes said more than enough.

"Oh," the Doctor realized, a little surprised. "You're not." He leaned back, considering the implications of this. "Well — wasn't expecting that."

"I…" The Goddess stared into the distance. Her voice was a whisper. "I came up with a better plan."

The Doctor frowned. "A better…?" That was when it occurred to him — why she wasn't going back. "It's because of Angelus. Isn't it?"

She said nothing.

She just drove.

"You computed everything out, hammered through the equations, and realized… if you went home, you couldn't take him with you," the Doctor reasoned. "So you gave it up. You changed the plan."

"Love doesn't matter," she said, dully. "The whole universe is just numbers. Equations. Strategies. Plans. Worshipper statistics. There is no feeling. There is no warmth. No true love. No passion. Just equations."

The Doctor put a hand on her arm. He could feel her trembling.

"Being Seo changed you, didn't it?" the Doctor asked. "Fundamentally changed you. It taught you to feel love; it taught you to want partnership and companionship; it taught you to be just a smidge more human, even when you don't have a soul. That's the  _real_  reason why you won't call yourself Glory. Because, deep down inside, you know that isn't really you, anymore."

The Goddess said nothing.

"And that's why you loved Angelus, isn't it?" The Doctor gave a sad smile. "And that's  _good_. Love is a beautiful thing. You shouldn't be afraid of it." He sighed, and glanced at the doorway that led to the back of the van. "Thing is… that isn't  _your_ Angelus, back there. You know that. Angel erased his Buffy-Timeline-Self, when he hopped over from Elizabeth's timeline. He…"

"I know," she said, softly. "I watched it happen, in 1996. He just… disappeared."

The Doctor let go of her arm. He could see the pain and loss on her face. "I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you to watch."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

For a second, she said nothing.

Then, in a flash of rage, she screamed. Turned on the Doctor, her eyes bitterly angry.

"You say getting back a soul will make me happy! Make me feel loved and content!" She slammed a fist down on the steering wheel — hard enough to bend it out of shape. "But  _my_  Angelus is gone! And this one is crazy! So how? How will I feel happy, being around people who loathe me? Who could truly love me after what I did?" She gestured outside, at the landscape around her. "I ended the world. Destroyed the lives of all my friends and family! Hurt anyone and everyone who ever cared about me!"

"I'm here," the Doctor offered.

She shook her head, as she poked a button so the van hovered over a section of the road that eroded away, before touching down on the other side. "Do you understand just how many of your friends and companions I've hunted down and murdered, over the years?"

The Doctor said nothing. He didn't think he wanted to know the answer to that. Those photos flashed through his mind… Susan, Liz Shaw, Tegan, Martha…

For a few long minutes, neither of them said a word.

"Were they all…?" the Doctor asked, finally.

"...mangled, tortured, and butchered — just like the three I showed you? Yep. Pretty much." The tiniest flicker of guilt passed across the Goddess' face — followed by fear, as she realized what she'd felt. She immediately threw up a blank mask, desperate to hide it. "They had to die, to change the equations. Allow the plan to unfold. It wasn't sadistic or cruel. It was just mathematics."

"Mangled, tortured, and butchered…" the Doctor repeated, his eyes dark. He leaned forwards, elbows on his knees.

"Angelus liked to make it brutal and sadistic," the Goddess put in. "I didn't care. I just pretended I did, so he would care about…"

She trailed off.

She said nothing for a moment, her hands trembling even more.

"Until the day my Angelus disappeared," the Goddess said, keeping her voice low in the hopes it wouldn't tremble, "I didn't realize what he meant to me. He was my comfort. My rock. My inspiration. He pulled me back from the abyss, whenever I grew weak and started thinking stupid things like, maybe, I didn't have to kill or be quite so brutal with  _all_ of your…"

She trailed off.

The guilt flickered across her face, again.

"So your 'abyss', means… goodness," the Doctor muttered. "He saved you from your better nature. And that's the man you fell in love with. An animal like…!" He gritted his teeth, his eyes growing even darker. "The same animal who tortured and murdered Seo — simply out of spite."

The Goddess finally seemed to realize the growing guilt and concern on her face, and stuffed it back behind a blank mask.

The Doctor sighed, and sat up straight again. He ran a hand down his face, trying to banish the thoughts of what she had done to him, in this timeline. "Yes. Fine. So perhaps you killed everyone who ever mattered to me, in brutal and horrible ways. But you still can…!"

"I also helped you change your own history so Gallifrey was saved, at the end of the Time War," the Goddess added. "Well, I had to. Clara was dead. Bringing it back gave you so much hope, so much happiness…" She shrugged. "And then I redestroyed Gallifrey. And squashed every bit of hope and happiness out of you. I brought my camera along, to snap a picture of the look on your face, when you watched it happen. It's framed and hanging on my bedroom wall — the darkest day of the Doctor."

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath.

"You really aren't making yourself easy to save," he muttered. "Are you?"

The Goddess shot him a pointed look. "So — my question to you still stands," she said. "Who will love me, after what I did to them? Who will forgive me?" She shook her head. "Because, looking at your face, right now — I don't think it's going to be you."

The Doctor said nothing for a long, long time.

He sighed. Ran another hand down his face.

"Well," he muttered, without fully realizing what he was saying, "maybe Drusilla will be able to think of someone."

The van screeched to a thudding halt.

The Goddess opened the glove compartment, took out a revolver, and cocked it, pointing it straight at the Doctor's head.

"Don't touch Drusilla," she warned him, through her teeth. "She is saved. She will remain saved."

The Doctor raised his hands, slowly. "I wasn't…"

"I know what you were thinking," snapped the Goddess. "Why Drusilla popped into your head. You still think you'll find a way to hunt down Drusilla, reverse this timeline, and put everything back the way it was. Don't you? Even without your TARDIS, you're still confident!" Her eyes narrowed. "But Drusilla will remain saved. End of discussion."

The Doctor sighed. "Seo…"

"In a few days, I will kill off anything left of Seo, inside of me," she said, her voice cold. "No conscience. No fear. No pain. In four years, I'll kill off even her body, and I'll finally transcend the mortal plane."

"You'll also kill everyone on Earth and in this arm of the Milky Way," said the Doctor. "You'll kill Dawn."

"Doesn't matter," she replied. "Seo's the one who brainwashed me into wanting her alive. Once I destroy Seo, I'll destroy the brainwashing, too. All feeling will be gone." She flicked her eyes over to him. "And what does it matter to you, what happens to Earth? You'll survive it. So will Mom. After all, I need you two alive."

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "Why do I think that's not an act of mercy?"

"The portal holds a paradox at bay — one that can reshape reality," she told him. "To control reality, I need the Key. I am the Key. Dawn is the Key. Both of us, together, combined with the two of you — in the right frame of mind, of course — can remap the whole galaxy… to start with. Beyond the galaxy, as my power grows. Eventually, all of time and space will bend to my will. Eventually, I'll have absolute power over everything."

The Doctor gritted his teeth. "And just what will you do with it, when you get it? What's it all  _for_?!"

The Goddess gave him an enigmatic smile. "I think that's up to me to decide."

"And Drusilla?"

"Drusilla will remain saved," the Goddess told him. She met his eyes with her own. "Forever."

"Yes, but why?" the Doctor demanded. "Why do you need Drusilla saved?"

The Goddess said nothing. She just continued to hold the gun on him.

"Look — have you  _talked_  to Drusilla about all this?" the Doctor asked. "Does she know what's happened, here? Do you think she'd want any of this?"

Her eyes grew very dark and very bitter.

"If you try to undo the timeline and put Drusilla back," the Goddess warned, "then I  _will_ kill you, Doctor. And if your death means my plan is doomed to fail — then I'll destroy the Earth for the sheer fun of it."

"But why?!" the Doctor shouted.

"Because she's all that matters!" the Goddess shouted back. "Because…!" She stopped. Looked away, bitter and angry. "Never mind. I told you why, already. You're just not willing to listen."

The Doctor said nothing, for a few long seconds. Then, finally, "I heard, back on Gallifrey, that the Meyomelae Krvas wasn't just imprisoned — she was weakened. There was a rumor that she'd been torn in two, and stuffed into two different human bodies. Seo I know. Who was the other?"

"Ben," said the Goddess. She sucked in a sharp breath. "Little, lower-dimensional, mortal Ben Wilkinson." Her eyes blazed, at the memory. "Rassilon didn't pull me through into Ben's dimensions, you know. Rassilon left me to exist in twelve dimensions while his compression field crammed me down into four. Know what that's like, being crammed down and squeezed and shoved and slammed into four dimensions? Wanna guess?"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, trying to imagine it — and being overpowered by what he  _could_  imagine. And he knew he wasn't able to even imagine most of it. "Blimey." He shot her a look of pain and sympathy. "I am so, so sorry."

The Goddess quirked an eyebrow. "You are? Why? You didn't do it." She lowered the gun. "I've heard about you in the Time War. Rassilon screwed you over as much as he screwed me over. Maybe more." She rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should be I'm-so-so-sorrying you, Time Twit."

The Doctor blinked. Blinked again. Then stared at her, for a second. "That… is something I honestly never thought I'd hear the Meyomelae Krvas  _ever_  say." He studied her, his eyes growing curious, as if he were trying to work her out. Then, finally, he leaned back in his seat and nodded, slowly. "I feel for you, Glorificus. Really, I do. What you've had to live through, locked up in four dimensions..." He shook his head. "It's obscene. Cruel. Heartless."

She lowered the gun a little more, not really sure what to make of the Doctor's empathy.

"You do get that there's a  _reason_  I'm a  _Hell_  Goddess, right?" the Goddess checked. "Your people didn't call me the 'Mistress of Fear' for nothing." She looked down at the gun in her hand. "I could kill you with the click of my fingers. Kill the whole world! I only packed the gun because I know you hate them." She shrugged. "I destroy people, cities, planets — the works. No effort. In fact, Father, I destroyed your entire life just as easily as crushing an ant." She coughed. "That's ant  _without_  the U, by the way — I'm aware of my problems crushing the  _other_  kind of aunt."

The Doctor took this in. "Do you want me to be afraid of you?"

"That isn't the point of what I…!" The Goddess gave a frustrated sigh, then aimed the gun back at the Doctor, again. "So you sympathize with my being torn in two and getting part of me locked inside Ben. Great! That sympathy and a buck fifty will get me a cup of coffee." The Goddess shook her head. "Let's get real, here. We both know you're not gonna offer me a chance to live. Not after I've destroyed your life, killed your friends, murdered Gallifrey, murdered most of the other planets you like, turned Romana into a gigantic evil space squid who converts people into demons using her ink…"

"Sorry, you did… what?!"

"But we'll not get into that, right now." She sighted him down the barrel. "You hate me. And you should. So you're not gonna offer me any chances; and while that's true, all the I'm-so-so-sorries in the world don't mean jack." She laughed. "I mean… can you imagine?" She lowered her voice, doing a bad imitation of his accent: "Thus sayeth the Time Lord unto the Hell Goddess: 'Accept your soul, Seo, allow yourself to feel, and allow me to go back in time and erase WWIII and save all my companions and favorite planets and make Angelus turn back into Angel and reverse all the other horrible things you've done — do all this, and, in return, I'll let you and Drusilla remained exactly where and how you are right now, so long as it's ensouled.'"

She rolled her eyes, like the very thought of it was absurd.

The Doctor considered. "Well… why not?"

The Goddess stopped laughing. She stared at him. "You're… serious?" She blinked. Then shook her head. "No. I don't care if you're Seo's father or whatever. I'm the Meyomelae Krvas. You're a Time Lord. You're  _never_  gonna allow the Almighty Glorificus to remain reunited — not even if I smack Seo's soul over the top of it."

"Yes, well, I'm not just any Time Lord," the Doctor scoffed, with a laugh. Then the laugh dried up, as he remembered his home… and missed it, terribly. No. Not now. Can't think about this now.

The Doctor pushed the memories away. Turned back to the Goddess.

"I think the real question is… will you do it?" the Doctor offered. "I know you were just joking around, before, but… as a serious offer, would you agree to get back a soul and let me undo all your evil, if I promised to keep you reunited and Drusilla saved?"

The Goddess went still. She blinked, staring at him, a little dumbfounded.

Then, she cringed. "I've… never actually considered it seriously, before." Her hands began to shake around the gun. "I could stay…"

The Goddess paused. She thought a long, long time.

The gun sagged in her hands.

"I don't give second chances, Meyomelae Krvas," the Doctor reminded her. "You know that. This is it — your one and only chance to survive."

"And you wouldn't touch Drusilla?"

"I promise."

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then, finally, she lowered the gun. "And if I say yes," she said, in a small voice, "what's to say I won't go back on it, in a few minutes? You've seen what I'm like. Some moments, I care and can feel. Other moments, I can't feel and don't care. I can't… I can't control myself." Her voice grew even smaller, even more terrified. "It's like… at different moments… I'm different people."

The Doctor had to admit, it was a good point. "Well… maybe I'll just wait and ask you when you're a bit more yourself."

She gave a dry laugh.

"You do realize," the Goddess pointed out, "that — the moment I get over this stretch of touchy-feeliness — I'll be so disgusted that I opened up to you, that I'll torture the hell out of you. Or hand you over to Angelus."

The Doctor cringed. "Right…"

"But I don't want to…!" She looked at the gun, trying to decide what to do with it. "I don't…! I can't…!"

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Then, after a minute, she opened her door, and tossed the gun away.

She opened her eyes, again. They were steady. Clear. She'd made her decision.

"I can't guarantee what I'll want, a few minutes from now," she told the Doctor, "but I know what I want, now. And I know how to make sure it happens — regardless of the mood swings." She reached into her pocket, and brought out a small crystal sphere. Handed it to the Doctor. "You know what this is?"

The Doctor took it, his jaw falling open. "An orb of Thessulah!" He looked between it and her. "So… that's a yes, then? You're taking my offer? You're happy to…?"

"Don't make me second guess my decision," she scolded him. "I don't know how long I'm going to be like this. I don't know how long I can trust myself." She took a deep breath. "But I do know one thing: you were there, in 1898. So you definitely know how to do it."

The Doctor closed his hands around the sphere.

She pointed at the door. "Get out," she said. "Give that to Mom and Willow and everyone else. Don't stick around long enough for me to change my mind."

The Doctor stepped out of the van.

"I'll find a way to make things work out — for everyone," the Doctor promised, before he shut the door. "Even you. And…" He gave her a small smile. "You were wrong, by the way. I still don't hate you."

She didn't look at him. She put her hands back on the steering wheel. "Thank you. That means… a lot."

He closed the door, and she shifted the van back into drive, then pulled onto the road.

A small smile lit up the sides of her lips, as she drove. She watched, as he grew smaller and smaller in her mirrors, until, eventually, he was no longer in sight.

Then, she shoved down the crank on the van to turn on the self-driving, and hopped into the back — to check up on her prisoner.

"Hello, Angel," said the Goddess, stepping inside and throwing up an illumination orb, to light the back of the van. She leaned down, so she could see him better — all chained up and restrained. "How's that soul thing working out for you? Any better, now that you've had a few minutes to think about it — and I've had a few minutes to chat to my father?"

Angel looked up at her. "Why did you bring me back?"

"It wasn't the plan, exactly," the Goddess admitted, "but your other-self was trying to drive me insane. I screamed. Then I sort of… snapped." She put up her fingers, as if to snap. "Both metaphorically — and literally."

Angel's eyes went wide, and he looked terrified.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't do it — yet," the Goddess laughed, dropping her hand. She considered. "Well, if you're good. But I know you will be. You won't risk  _him_  getting out and hurting Buffy. Would you?"

"I don't think it matters what  _I'll_ risk," Angel said. " _You're_ the one in the most danger. Take away my soul, and I'll try to drive you insane, again."

"And you think I wouldn't risk that?" She put a hand against her hearts. "I waged a war that lasted a thousand years, against two all-powerful Hell Gods. I wiped out half my own universe. I still remember it like it was yesterday." She met his eyes with her own, evenly. "If I risked all that, I think I can risk one itty bitty little vampire. Don't you?"

Angel said nothing.

He wasn't completely sure she wouldn't.

She grinned, and paced the length of the van, her hands behind her back. Then, out of nowhere, she laughed. "The Doctor."

Angel frowned. "What about him?"

"The Doctor, despite being one of the most intelligent people I know," the Goddess said, "is also one of the only ones who'd honestly think I captured him simply so I could give him a chance to talk to me."

"So… why was he really here?" Angel asked.

The Goddess extinguished the overhead light. "Wouldn't you love to know?"


	20. Chapter 20

"Giles!" Buffy shouted. "Stop!"

Giles slammed on the breaks, causing them all to nearly go flying.

Buffy jumped out of the car, and raced over, sweeping the Doctor (standing by the side of the road) into a great big hug.

"You made it out!" Buffy said.

The Doctor grinned. "Course I did. Fine and dandy. She just wanted a bit of a chat, is all." He suddenly looked far more serious. "Did you talk to Spike?"

Buffy grabbed him by the hand, and dragged him back to the car. "Much talkiness, much infoness. I'll tell you on the way. You know she's on her way to blow up a supervolcano, right?"

She yanked open the door to the car.

"No, she forgot to mention that," the Doctor said. "Although — she did seem pretty certain she'd found a way to destroy Seo for good. I assume that'd be it."

Giles took one look at the Doctor — and sighed. "Buffy," he said, warily, "you do realize that this car only seats five, right?"

"We'll scrunch. Dawn's pretty tiny." Buffy slid into the front, and shut the door — to make it clear that  _she_  wasn't the one scrunching.

A lot of scrunching and shouting and stuffing-Fritos-bags-into-the-trunk and squeezing-in later, and they were off, again. Everyone explained to the Doctor what had happened and what they'd found out, in great detail.

"Right," the Doctor said, taking it all in. "Well, it's a mantle plume. Not exactly the easiest thing to manipulate, but given that she's got access to an astonishing amount of higher dimensional mathematics that give her a power even my lot couldn't fully understand… she could probably find a way to pull it off." He tugged at his earlobe. "Shame we can't ask Seo. She's the one with an instinct with higher dimensional type things."

"Yes, but how do we stop the supervolcano?" Giles asked.

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "Well, thing is, Yellowstone still has about 5,000 years more on it, before it erupts. So how to stop it all depends on how, precisely, she'll be causing it to explode 5,000 years early, in the first place."

Everyone looked at him, expectantly.

"And that's something I simply don't know," the Doctor admitted. "I could think of numerous ways to pull it off. The question is… which did she choose?" The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Go back in time and make the cycle happen a bit earlier? Fiddle with the core-mantle boundary to create a greater buildup of pressure over the last 5,000 years? Or is it something to do with the nuclear war? Drop some sort of bomb, here, and that'll do the trick — no temporal manipulation involved."

Willow tried to squirm, but got accidentally elbowed by Xander. He jerked out of the way, and elbowed Dawn. She shouted, in annoyance, kicking her feet.

"Okay, Fritos emergency!" Xander decided, handing Dawn the bag.

She took it, paused, then stopped kicking.

"And… crisis averted," said Xander.

"Course, she might not be blowing it up at all," the Doctor offered, still thinking. "Easiest way to destroy a glove wouldn't be with a supervolcano and all those nasty pyroclastic flows. Much better to use a sort of LIP — like the Snake River Plain. Course, those flood basalts were  _caused_  by a Yellowstone eruption, so…"

He trailed off, in thought.

"What's he saying?" Dawn asked, through a mouthful of Fritos.

Xander reached for another bag. "I'm pretty sure he's saying we need more Fritos."

Willow handed Xander another bag. "Buffy," Willow called, to the front. "Tell the Doctor about — you know — the other thing."

Buffy frowned, looking back at them. "Huh?" Then, remembering, "Oh, yeah! Right!" She pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and handed it to the Doctor. "We found Drusilla."

The Doctor snatched the paper from her and unfolded it with eager fingers. "Oh! Oh, yes! Oh, that is brilliant!" He beamed at Buffy. "You, Elizabeth, are brilliant! You know that? Brilliantly, brilliantly brilliant!"

Buffy beamed, as if to say, I know. That's why I'm in the front and you guys are scrunching.

"Where is she?" Xander asked, opening the new bag of Fritos. "And… Dawn, can you please get your elbow out of my mouth?"

Dawn pouted, sulking. "I'm the injured person, here. I deserve space."

"No, you don't," said Buffy, reaching back and stealing the Fritos bag from Xander's hands. She popped a Frito into her mouth. "Well? Doctor? Where is she?"

The Doctor blinked. "Somewhere I haven't been in a long, long time." He whistled, impressed, as he shook his head. "One thing I can say… it's the one place that Angelus would never,  _ever_  be able to get her. Not in a hundred million years."

"So it's in space and stuff, right?" Dawn asked. Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Can we go into space?" She shoved a handful of Fritos into her mouth, and, through chews, said, "I wanna be all dangling and hair going nuts and flying around and stuff."

The Doctor grimaced. "Considering you're the seventh segment of a six segment Key… I think your going into space might be catastrophic." The Doctor grabbed his sonic screwdriver from Dawn's pocket, only elbowing three other people in the face as he did so. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! Right. Let's see…" He flashed the sonic in the air. "Ooh, would you look at that? Weak spot… right around Yellowstone. Seems someone's been trying to punch a hole through the universe, to create a link between Earth and Drusilla."

Buffy frowned. "Someone? You mean the Goddess, or…?"

The Doctor grinned, and winked.

"You mean  _Drusilla_?" Buffy stared at him like he was crazy. "Drusilla is punching holes in the universe?"

"I thought Drusilla was just a normal human-type person," Xander said, stealing a handful of Fritos from Dawn. "Do normal human-type people generally punch holes in the universe?"

"Well… I did see it happen, once, with the mistress to the King of France," the Doctor admitted. He scrunched up his nose, thinking. Then shook his head. "But… nah! Not enough robots harvesting organs for it to be that."

Giles just pretended that this made complete sense, as he kept driving. "Fortunately for the sanity of us all, we're nearly there."

* * *

"Thank you, air!" Xander cried, as he practically fell out of the car. He took in deep lungfuls of it. "I thought I'd be squeezed to death in that doom-machine of yours, Giles."

"It's an automobile with extensive radiation shielding," Giles said, his face very serious. "And it's rather hard to obtain a vehicle like this one, not to mention hard to navigate across all those sections of road that were destroyed or flooded or eroded away — so I hope you're all happy that we got here, at all."

"Not to mention the difficulties of driving puncturable tires over all those igneous rocks," Willow put in, holding up one of the geology books she'd been flipping through on the way. "The igneous rocks can be really sharp, like glass — and that one time, when we lost the road and were wandering around for…!"

"Will, we get that you're smart and we're all very proud of you," said Xander, turning back to her. "But I think the question we're all most concerned about is — how many bags of Fritos do we have left?"

The Doctor ignored them all. He had jumped out of the car and was following the sonic screwdriver to some unknown spot. He then beamed, happily, and jumped up and down.

"Yes! Got it! Brilliant!"

Giles rushed over. "Doctor, how do we stop Yellowstone from exploding?"

"What? Oh. That. Right!" The Doctor bounced on his toes, hands clasped behind his back, thinking. "Well… seems to me… we can't."

Everyone stared at him.

"What?!" they all cried.

"Can't stop Yellowstone, I mean," the Doctor said, "since we don't know what she did to make it go off early. Course, if we had a time machine, could do all sorts. Change the mix of silica and water… relieve the pressure… get ourselves a banana daiquiri…"

Buffy crossed her arms, waiting for the part where he got serious.

"But, 'course, we don't need to stop Yellowstone," said the Doctor, with a cheeky grin. "All we really need to do is retrieve the resurrection gauntlet before she ever creates the explosion, in the first place."

Giles' eyes lit up. "Of course. Retrieve the gauntlet, and we can restore her soul." His joy faltered, for a second. "Assuming that we knew  _how_ to restore…"

"Oh, that's easy peasy! We don't have to do anything, to turn her into Seo," the Doctor insisted. "I've spoken with her, and I can assure you – your Goddess is getting more and more ensouled by the minute! All we need to do is keep her from stopping Seo taking over, before the transformation is complete."

Xander slouched. "I know you say that, but the Goddess could have just been messing with us," he pointed out. "So how do you know Miss Evil Hell Goddess is  _really_ getting better, and that this isn't all a trick?"

The Doctor took something out of his pocket. "Because she gave me this!"

It was a small, glowing orb, shining in his hands. He grinned at it, as he brought it up to his face.

"Isn't it brilliant? Haven't seen one of these in ages!" he cried.

Giles stepped over to him, squinting. "Is that… an orb of Thessulah?"

"Oh, yes!" the Doctor said. He walked over and dropped it into Willow's hands. "One great big soul-restoring engine, coming right up!" He paused, frowned. "No, wait a tic. That's not right. There were some psionics that went with it." He patted down each of his pockets, in turn, digging through them, until he found a piece of paper and a pen. Then he spun Xander around, leaned the paper on his back, and began writing. "Lessee… lessee…" He scribbled down characters in a complex alien script, peppered with Arabic numeral mathematics. "How did this go, again? Carry the two for the morphic field… add five…" He scratched something out. "No, no… Rassilon's constant. Has to be Rassilon's constant. Then… compensation for the orb." He finished up, and beamed. "Yep, that's it. Perfect."

He turned the paper over, and wrote out something that looked sort of like a spell.

"Wow, I didn't know you were all with the magicness," Buffy commented, looking at him, as he wrote it all down.

"I didn't know Xander was all with the tableness," said Willow.

Xander continued his role as a makeshift table. "What can I say? I must have been an Ikea store, in a former life."

The Doctor didn't stop writing. "Psionics, not magic," he said to Buffy. "Bit of universal manipulation. Small amount of neurochemistry. Bit hard to explain, really." He blew on the paper, to dry the ink. "Sides — last time I met Morgan La Fey, she seemed pretty sure I was Merlin. So I'd better be good at this."

He spun around and handed the paper to Willow.

"That's what we did, last time we gave Angel back his soul," the Doctor said. He winced. "Except I've cut out that bit about the moment of happiness. Nasty, that. Definitely didn't know that was in there. Need to have a chat with the Kalderash, next time I run into them."

For a second, everyone stared at him.

Giles actually took off his glasses and blinked, dumbfounded.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"You… were there?" Giles cried. "You've known, this entire time, how to restore Angel's soul — and said nothing?!"

The Doctor sighed. "Yes, well, it's not  _Angel's_ soul I was worried about."

Buffy looked like she wanted to hit him.

Willow took the paper and the orb, looking them over, curiously. "Yeah, I think I could do this," she decided. Her eyes lit up. "Oh! And then we can do some kind of variation, to get the Goddess' soul back even faster!"

The Doctor shook his head. "Seo's soul wasn't whisked away into the ether, somewhere," he said. "Angelus burnt it to nothing. It's dead. Gone. All that remains is hiding inside that resurrection gauntlet."

"I thought the soul was eternal," said Xander.

"Nearly always," said the Doctor. He scratched the back of his neck. "Like I said… nasty way to go. Very nasty."

"But Seo's gonna come back when we steal the resurrection glove from Evil Hell Goddess lady," Dawn said, excitedly. "And then both her _and_ Angel will be good!"

Buffy stepped in between Dawn and the others, facing her sister with a stern face. "Not 'we'," she said. "You're staying out of this."

Dawn glared at Buffy. "What? That's so not fair!"

"Dawn, you got cut up into little bits, last time you were kidnapped!" Buffy insisted, grabbing her by the hand and reminding her — visually. "I'm not risking anything else happening to you. You're going to stay out of trouble, and…"

"Actually, I think we may need her on this one," the Doctor cut in.

Dawn stuck her tongue out at Buffy.

Buffy spun on him. "Doctor…!"

"Seems to me that, of all of us, there's one person that we know, for a fact, the Goddess won't kill," the Doctor said. "Not when the Goddess is good, not when she's evil, not ever." He pointed at Dawn. "She needs you alive."

"Angel will kill her!" Buffy shouted.

Willow stepped forwards, eyes glowing, body full of bubbly excitement. "But… no! He won't!" She raised up the orb. "Because we're going to give him back his soul. Remember?"

Buffy hesitated.

Then, finally, sighed. And dropped Dawn's hand.

"Well, I guess, if I'm here to protect her…" Buffy started.

The Doctor grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away from her sister. "Ah. Actually, not so much. You're coming with me."

"What?" Buffy yanked her arm out of his grip. "But I can't! Angel…!"

The Doctor leaned over, so he was at her eye level. "Elizabeth," he said. "Let me explain something to you about the Goddess Glorificus. Right now, she's terrified, she's desperate, and she's being limited by a lower-dimensional body and some very intricate mental brainwashing that Seo instilled, a long time ago. But there's one thing Glorificus was known for, on my world: she loves traps."

"I don't…!"

"I struck a deal with her," the Doctor said. "No more WWIII, no more destroying both our lives, undo all the bad stuff and allow Seo to return — and I'll allow Drusilla to remain saved. But now that I've seen  _where_  Drusilla's been saved — I'm starting to think that all she really wanted me to do was restore Angel's soul to him before Angelus drove her mad."

"But Doctor, that isn't…!"

"Whatever she's done to Drusilla is  _allowing_  Glorificus to make herself a full Hell Goddess," the Doctor said. "And I know that because of the Slayers."

Buffy didn't follow this. "Huh?"

"The Slayers almost always die after their first battle," said the Doctor. "Since right around 1860 — before Seo was killed, but right smack when Drusilla was saved. So that's not the Goddess — that one's Drusilla."

Buffy had to admit, it was a good point.

"There's some way in which I think I'm being tricked, here," the Doctor said. "But I won't find out how, until I see what's actually happened to Drusilla."

"I'm still not leaving Dawn," Buffy insisted. "She needs me."

The Doctor shook his head. "We're the last people she needs. We are the two people that Glorificus knows best and can best manipulate. She's gunning for us, so we've always got a target on our backs. We know the Meyomelae Krvas won't kill Dawn, and the more soul-filled she gets, the more likely it is that she'll treat the others leniently. But you and I are needed elsewhere."

The Doctor buzzed his sonic screwdriver at the air, and it shimmered, before it turned into a swirling blue portal.

"Right there, in fact." The Doctor grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. "So? Allons-y?"

Buffy sighed, pulling out a stake. "Is it safe?"

"You could say," said the Doctor, yanking the stake out of her hand and tossing it away, "that it's the very definition of safe."

He grinned, took her hand in his.

Together, they walked into the light.


	21. Chapter 21

As they stepped into the portal of swirling light, Buffy realized — it wasn't  _just_ swirling light. It was a light that seemed to illuminate even the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind. It gave her such hope, where hope had once been lacking. It gave her strength, where once, she had been weak. It showed her beauty where there was only despair.

They stepped out into a large public garden. A crested avar chirruped in the trees, nearby. Children ran past them, their laughter filling the air like the sweetest music. The verdant grass was dotted with magnificent flowers, and even the strange stone statues seemed beautiful and yet cruel, at the same time.

A little girl stepped forwards, dropping a bouquet of flowers at one of the statues' feet. "I am so very sorry, dear Melkur, that you are too evil to move. I wish it were not so. But, here, I bring you flowers and tend you, as the Fosters have appointed me to do."

The Doctor's eyes flicked across the planet. "Yep. That's what I thought. The one place, in the universe, where nothing bad would  _ever_  be able to touch Drusilla."

Buffy looked around herself. "What is this place?"

"You are in the Traken Union, in the system of Mettula Orionsis, in a galaxy far from your own," came a very familiar voice, behind them. They turned, and there, seated on a beautiful red chair — floating above the ground — was a middle aged, but still radiant-looking Drusilla.

The Doctor stared at her, in horror. "Right…" He shuffled, from foot-to-foot. "Definitely been tricked."

Drusilla drifted forwards on her floating chair and took Buffy by the hand.

"Buffy Summers," Drusilla said, looking into her eyes. "I see you, across time and space. An inspiration. A great intellect. An undying courage. You said I had to be destroyed by Angelus… but I don't blame you for that. I thank you, for bringing your daughter to me and showing me a way out of the misery and darkness."

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah — about that…"

"And you, Doctor," Drusilla said, her chair floating away from Buffy and zipping over to the Doctor, "also deserve thanks. You brought her to me, in my darkest hour. You showed her how to save those who need to be saved. She passed your test."

"Well, actually…" the Doctor insisted.

"I can see you, too, across the patterns of the universe," Drusilla continued, looking through him. "The lonely traveler who has lost everything — even his home. But someday, you will have a home, again. Someday, you will awake, and all will be well inside your hearts."

"Thing is," the Doctor continued, a little awkwardly, "you weren't actually  _supposed_ to be saved. And certainly not like this." The Doctor gestured at the floating chair. "I mean — I thought only Consuls could become Keeper of Traken. Would never have guessed they'd allow an alien to do it."

Drusilla laughed, and her laughter echoed across the waters that were imbued with the power of the Source. "The Source chose me, Doctor," she said. "The Consuls had little choice. The Source knew of my Sight — and saw my potential." Tears appeared inside her eyes, as she looked out — deep into space and time. "I can see it all, now. Time and space. Planets and particles. What can change and what must never be altered. The Source guides me. And this universe is so,  _so_  beautiful. The numbers of the universe, one after another after another — I can reach out and take them in my hands, manipulate them and rearrange them. I can spread so much goodness, so much light! My hands illuminate the universe!"

Buffy nodded, slowly. "Right… sure…"

"And this is where we start to get into why the Goddess Glorificus wants to keep you around," the Doctor said, to Drusilla. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You do realize that none of what's happened, back on Earth, should be possible, yes? Setting aside, for now, that the Slayers are dropping like flies, let's talk about Angelus. Angelus — a not-too-bright vampire bully — somehow managed to strand Seo on Earth, capture her, torture her, block the weapon in her head, block her regeneration…"

"Huh?" asked Buffy.

"If he hadn't, she'd easily have regenerated and killed him off before he turned her evil," the Doctor said. "Of course he did. Don't ask me how! And that's just one of a dozen or more impossible things. I haven't even gotten to the resurrection gauntlet snatched from time and the five hundred different paradoxes that were caused by doing so." He shook his head. "Drusilla, there's only one reason that any of this happened. It's because of you. The fact that you were saved is making it happen."

The light faded from Drusilla's eyes. She suddenly looked so sad, so lost, so… alone.

"I was so happy, here," Drusilla told them both. She stepped out of her chair, and looked up at the heavens. "I thought — my savior, my heavenly messenger — where is she, now? I must see her. I must tell her how happy she has made me." She reached out, towards the sky. "But I saw her falling. Her soul burned brighter than the brightest star. I tried so hard to reach her. I tried so hard to save her. But there was nothing I could do." She dropped her hand. "She was… just… gone."

Buffy and the Doctor exchanged a look.

"She saved me from a fate worse than death," said Drusilla, her voice shaking. "And I… I…"

She sat back down, her face pained and her eyes long and sad.

"I can see so much," Drusilla whispered. "I can change so much. But I could not catch her, as she fell. I could not save her from her torment. I weep, every day — because she saved me, and I stood aside and did nothing, as she took my place."

* * *

The Goddess pulled out a small device, watching it, as it began to glow.

"And… it looks like the Scoobies have finally started," she said. She looked up, at Angel, who was standing before her, surrounded by minions, and wearing handcuffs. "Guess what, Angel? I've decided to play it safe. If they've started the spell, that means you probably shouldn't be around, anymore — or everything could get screwed up." She shrugged. "Or not. Fifty-fifty chance. Point is, they've started, so it's your turn to go."

"Spell?" asked Angel.

The Goddess grabbed him by his handcuffs. "Sorry, Angel." She raised up her fingers. "But we won't meet, again. Say hi to Seo, for me, when you get... wherever nonexistent souls go."

Before she could snap her fingers, Angel threw himself at her, fangs bared. He attacked her with every last bit of desperate terror he felt, overcome by a determination to make sure that he survived and could protect Buffy — and the world.

He hit her. Smashed her head against the ground. Punched her. Kicked her. Threw her against a tree.

She didn't fight back.

In fact, Angel only realized that something was wrong when she dropped down, at the base of the tree, and curled up into a ball.

She was shaking.

"I tried so hard," she whispered, "to fight back. But you never stopped. Drusilla got off lucky, when you killed her friends and family — but that wasn't enough for me. You had to make  _me_  kill my own family."

She looked up at him, her eyes so pained and so soulful.

"Why?" she asked. "You asked me to save her! Why did you make me do it? Why did you make me do all those horrible things?"

Angel leaned down. "Is that… you? The real you?" He put a hand on her shoulder, and she shuddered. "Are you Buffy's daughter?"

She shoved his hand off of her. "Don't touch me!" Her whole face looked hurt, betrayed. "After what you did…!"

Angel opened his mouth to say something more… but that was when he felt a shudder and a violent tremor come over him. He doubled over, suddenly in intense pain.

She gasped, jumped to her feet. "The spell!" She looked horrified. "That orb! It's not the orb of Thessulah! It's…!" She spun around, racing towards the others. "I have to stop this. I have to warn them!"

Angel didn't know what was happening, but he knew it was something extremely, extremely bad. He could feel himself getting eaten up from the inside, and he didn't know what to do to stop it…

He reached out, for help — but there was no one.


	22. Chapter 22

Buffy backed a little closer to the Doctor. "Doctor," she whispered. "What is going on? Why is Drusilla floating? Why's she all… ethereal?"

"Drusilla has become the Keeper of Traken," the Doctor explained. He gestured around himself. "The Traken Union is the most peaceful place in the universe. Its people, long ago, built a sort of sentient sun machine, called the Source, which protects the good and keeps out the evil. All to do with bio-electronics and whatnot. The Keeper communes with the Source, and keeps the Union stable."

"Okay, but… why did Seo bring Drusilla  _here_?" Buffy asked. "Angel doesn't have a space ship. Even if Seo had dropped Drusilla on Mars, she would have been unreachable."

"When Seo saved me, I was at the Sisters of Mercy Convent," Drusilla explained, "and Angelus had nearly torn apart my sanity. I was crumbling to pieces, and it didn't matter whether or not he took that final bite. I would still be insane. Seo knew that. She brought me to the one place in the universe that could drive his darkness from my mind."

"To the Source," the Doctor agreed. He brought Buffy over to one of the Melkur statues in the garden. "There! See? That's what happens to evil on this planet." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Either it's purified from the mind, or — if it's too deeply set in — the monster petrifies. Turns to stone!" He grinned. "Saw it happen to a Hell God, once. Nasty."

"So the Source is like… the opposite of the Judge," Buffy realized. "The Source takes away evil. The Judge takes away good."

The Doctor held out his hands, like a scale. "Balance between good and evil. Universal law of the cosmos. You know this one! Bit of good over here…" He tilted his hands one way, "...bit of evil over here." He tilted his hands the other way. He grimaced. "Thing is… Seo left Drusilla somewhere that she could be  _too_  good. She became Keeper of Traken. She became… well… considering the unimaginable powers of the Keeper…" The Doctor scratched his head. "Basically… Drusilla became a god."

Buffy looked around herself, her jaw dropping, as she took in what it all meant.

Why Angelus had been able to burn Seo's soul away.

Why the Slayers kept dying on their first battles.

Why good kept failing to gain a foothold, anywhere on Earth.

The Balance.

"That's why you said that you'd been tricked," Buffy said to the Doctor, reasoning it out. "While Drusilla's here, on Traken, being all with the godlike Keeperness, then the Balance will throw everything in the Goddess' favor, back on Earth. She's the equal and opposite to Drusilla."

"Yes, that's exactly what I meant," said the Doctor. He resumed showing his two scale hands. "Now, normally, you get someone like Drusilla, here, in the universe, and a whole bunch of little bad accumulates, over a big amount of space across the rest of the universe, to balance it out. But, if you yank someone out of history…!" He began to jostle the two sides of the scale, wildly.

"It all goes crazy!" Buffy realized. "I get it. The universe freaks. It starts grabbing at whatever it can to restore the Balance, immediately — even if that means allowing impossible stuff to happen! Trying to get around it would be as impossible as steering against that asteroid tsunami in Japan, a hundred years ago."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at 'asteroid tsunami'.

Buffy wasn't paying attention, anymore, though.

A sad emptiness was spreading through Buffy, as she realized what that must have felt like, for her daughter. Fighting back, desperately, against Angelus — even though everything she did was useless. Every time Seo acted, she always lost. There was no reason to it. No logic. No way out. She was fighting fate. Fighting the universe. She had to die in pain and agony and torment.

It must have been horrible.

"But, of course," the Doctor went on, "that's not all there is to all this." The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, and turned back to Drusilla. "Is it?" He arched an eyebrow. "Because Glorificus is planning to take control of a whole galaxy, in the near future. And if that's a galaxy dedicated to evil… well, I assume you've extended your influence beyond just the Traken Union. Haven't you, Drusilla?"

Drusilla smiled — a majestic, beautiful smile.

"How, exactly?" the Doctor asked.

Drusilla gestured at him. "Haven't you guessed? Through you, Doctor."

The Doctor gritted his teeth, running a hand down his face. "Oh, I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Hang on — you said the Goddess was purposely killing off all your companions," Buffy remembered, turning to the Doctor, "so that  _she_  could extend  _her_  influence. Using  _you_."

"Yep, and this is the equal-but-opposite version," the Doctor confirmed. He sighed. "Should have guessed. It's exactly what we were just saying! A change in history making the Balance get jerked and yanked out of whack!"

Drusilla floated closer to Buffy. "The Source can use my Sight to understand so much more of the universe than has ever been possible with any other Keeper. I saw far into the future of Traken — when great evil overtakes our world. The Doctor will be there. He will try to fight it. But, in the end, the evil will be too strong, and our world — along with a third of the universe — will be destroyed."

"Except… it's not going to be, anymore, is it, Drusilla?" the Doctor asked. He threw his hands up into the air. "Yes! Numbers! Of course! You created your own little Logopolis within the Union, didn't you? You looked into the future and realized that you could control the numbers that govern the universe. You could use my timeline to spread goodness far past the Traken Union — to at least the rest of this galaxy, if not further."

Drusilla smiled, majestically.

"Block transfer…?" Buffy asked.

"Brilliant little mathematical trick," the Doctor explained, bouncing on his toes, boyish excitement on his face. "Using numbers and mathematics to reshape the universe! Bet that's how Seo got my TARDIS to January 1998 — and told Spike her little message. Very intricate computations, block transfer. Angelus probably dismissed it as the insane ramblings of a broken mind."

Buffy still really didn't like thinking of how her daughter was killed. It felt like someone was gouging out her heart, every time they mentioned it.

The Doctor appeared to have the same thought, because the boyish enthusiasm dripped off his face, with his thoughts, and he suddenly looked… horribly, terribly sad. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Still, thing is," the Doctor said, rounding on Drusilla, "you really  _shouldn't_  be here." He stepped towards her. "And I'm sorry — I am so, so sorry. But you know you have to go back."

"He's right," Buffy insisted. "The whole Earth will die, if you don't…!"

"All the planets of the Traken Union will die," Drusilla interrupted, "if I do. Along with a third of the universe!" She locked eyes with the Doctor and Buffy. "I have never been so happy as I have been, here. Ever since I came to Traken, every morning, as I awake, I fall to my knees, by my bedside, and thank God that I was saved."

The Doctor sighed. "And that's all very well and good — but, cosmic implications aside, it still comes at the price of one soul."

Drusilla said nothing. Another tear fell down her cheek.

"None of this should have been possible, Drusilla," the Doctor said. "The timeline's been corrupted beyond belief. What happened to Seo could never have happened if you hadn't stayed here, to become the Keeper of Traken. She spent her final days in agony, fear, and desperation – knowing that she would butcher her friends and family the moment she lost her soul, but unable to stop any of it. And that's all because of you."

Drusilla still remained silent.

"But it's only the beginning," the Doctor continued. "Your goodness is helping birth a Hell Goddess on the other side of the Universe, Drusilla. And… thing is… the Keeper of Traken doesn't live forever." He shrugged. "But, far as I can tell, if Glorificus succeeds in 2001 — she  _will_. And there is no telling what she'll do with that kind of power, after you die and there's no one left to oppose her."

Drusilla shuddered.

"While you're here, on Traken, Drusilla," the Doctor said, "the Meyomelae Krvas is guaranteed to succeed. The Balance will be pushing in her favor. She will kill off any last vestiges of Seo, inside her. Get rid of Seo's mental traps. Butcher her aunt. Sentence Elizabeth and myself to — well, I can only assume it'll be a fate worse than death…"

"But I don't want that!" Drusilla insisted. "I never wanted her to die! I never wanted her family to die — certainly not by her own hand. I never wanted any of this to happen!"

Buffy shrugged. "It's the Balance. There has to be enough evil to counter your good — and you're way too good."

"You have to choose, Drusilla," the Doctor urged her. "Will you go back? Let yourself get destroyed? Let Angelus turn you into a vampire and drive you mad? You will kill and maim and butcher — but not so many as have died in this timeline. And Seo will go out into the stars, to save, to inspire, to help — but not so many as you have saved, here."

Drusilla's face fell into an even deeper pain and misery, as she drooped in her chair. Her hair fell across her face, covering it in shadow.

"I only ever wanted to live and be a nice person," Drusilla whispered. "I never wanted to become Angelus' obsession. I never wanted to become Keeper. I just wanted to be a nice, normal person!"

Buffy and the Doctor looked at each other.

They said nothing.

There was nothing they could say.

* * *

"Stop it!" shouted a woman with long mahogany hair, running towards Willow, Xander, Giles, and Dawn. "You don't know what you're doing!"

The Scoobies all ignored her. They knew the Goddess would try to stop them giving back Angel's soul. But Willow was already burning with magical power, in the middle of a trance, and there was no stopping her now.

"Asa sa fie! Acum!" Willow shouted.

The Goddess tried to grab the orb out of their hands, but cried out and dropped it, as it burned her. "It's not the orb of Thessulah! It was a trick! A trap! Don't you see what you've done?!" She bit her lower lip and grabbed the orb, anyways, ignoring the heat. "I can take it back. I can reverse it! I know I can…!"

She stopped.

A shudder ran through her.

Suddenly, her eyes went cold, and all hints of remorse, compassion, or empathy were gone.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me," the Goddess said. She squeezed, until the orb shattered into a hundred thousand pieces. "Goodbye, Angel. That's the last we'll see of you, I think."

Willow jumped to her feet. "No, it's not!" she shouted. "Because, right now — Angel's back. We just gave him back his…"

"You used  _my_  orb," the Goddess said, "and omitted the part about the moment of happiness. Didn't you?" She grinned. "You poor, deluded fools. Why do you think I had Angelus grab the Doctor, for me? He's the only one who'd ever think I just brought him over to chat."

Giles looked at the remains of the spell, in horror. "A trick."

"Yeah." The Goddess beamed at them, spreading out her arms. "I'm not getting a touch of conscience. I'm not turning into Seo. I mean, just look at me! I'm glorious!" She ran a hand through her hair, to show it off. "It was all an act. All a ruse."

Everyone looked at everyone else, dread welling up inside of them.

"Nuh-uh," said Dawn Summers. She stepped forwards, hands on her hips. "I saw you. You were all soul and stuff and stopping the spell and yeah, you know. The soul stuff stuff."

The Goddess' glee tumbled off her face, as she looked at Dawn — replaced by something sad and desperate and… full of love and guilt and caring.

"So make with the weepy," Dawn challenged.

The Goddess stumbled backwards. Then she turned… and fled.

She ran and ran and ran — faster than she ever thought she could run, before. She scarcely looked where she was going, as she kept running, faster and faster…

Hands caught her, and stopped her.

"I assume I have you to thank for this?" came a familiar voice. "After all, I thought I was a goner back in 1996."

She looked up. For a moment, she shuddered away, as she looked into the eyes of the man who'd trapped, tortured, and killed her. Then, she blinked. And all that faded, in her mind.

"What can I say? I missed you," said the Goddess, pecking him on the lips. "The man who murdered me. The man who revived me. The man whom time tried to wipe out." She grinned. "I've got a new plan, you know. Something you can help me with. Something that'll make sure I never have to worry about little Say-say being inside my head, anymore."

Angelus — the correct Angelus, from  _this_  timeline — grinned down at her. "Can't refuse you anything. You know that. What do you want me to do?"

She told him.

And it was so…  _so_  easy.


	23. Chapter 23

Drusilla, after a long while, moved her hands in a circle shape, then a square shape. As if summoned by magic, a golden box of light appeared in her hands.

"When I first arrived, here," Drusilla said, "I wasn't in my right mind. Seo found physicians who would look after me as I recovered. When I was better, they showed me this — the box that Seo left for me."

The box of light popped open.

There, inside that box, were a thousand and one hopes, wishes, and dreams for Drusilla to catch. A thousand and one smiles, from Seo, that she had left for her. They fluttered through the air like butterflies! And… at the very, very bottom…

"This," said Drusilla, taking out a glowing orb, "is the reset switch."

The Doctor's mouth formed an 'o', and his eyes grew wide.

"A… reset switch?" Buffy asked.

Drusilla drifted her hand over the orb, and a hologram popped up in between the Doctor and Drusilla.

"Hello!" Seo said, with a beam. She had long, mahogany hair, glittering, kind eyes, and a pair of sunglasses perched in her hair. "Well. What can I say? I always regretted what happened to you, Drusilla. When Angel came to me, griping about how Father was sitting back and just letting it happen… I thought… why not?" Seo's smile hesitated. "Then I came up with enough good reasons why not that I started having… second thoughts."

Buffy and the Doctor exchanged a look.

"So, here's the deal," Seo told them, as a hologram. "Drusilla, I've given this to you — because  _you're_ the only one who should get the chance to decide whether or not you want to go back. If you do… I've used Oliver to insert a reset code into my little timeline edit. That means, if this all goes horribly, horribly wrong, and the whole universe is going to end or something — the code embedded in this orb will undo everything and put the timeline back, the way it was."

"Thank the Seven Systems for that," the Doctor muttered.

But Seo on the hologram wasn't done. "There's one catch," she said. "I know my sister's wandering around through time and space, trying to undo everything I've done without caring about the consequences. And I don't want her to just hit the reset switch, no matter what — even if everyone's happy and everything's fine. So I built in a failsafe."

The Doctor frowned. Glanced at Drusilla. "Sorry — sister?"

Drusilla looked sad. "Someone you haven't met, yet, Doctor. Seo's sister, Jenny, was destroyed by the Valeyard at the beginning of all this. Seo was no longer around to save her. I could do nothing to stop it."

"To trigger the reset," Seo explained, "all anyone has to do is get both you and I, Drusilla, to consent. The trigger is in our heads. If we both activate that, it'll release the code from the orb, and everything will go back into place." She paused. A thoughtful look settled across her features. "But it's all up to you, Drusilla. If I feel you trigger, on your side, I'll trigger on mine. If, however, you're happy — then even if something horrible happens to me, as a result, maybe… that's okay. Maybe it's for the best." She frowned, with the thought of a hundred thousand ways this could go wrong… and one horrible way in which it did.

Then Seo beamed, and waved, again. "So, see you on the next adventure! Give my love to all my friends and family!" She blew them a kiss, and a wink.

Then, the hologram snapped off.

For a few seconds, none of them could speak. It had been such a breath of fresh air to see her, again, just the way she had been, so long ago. So happy and vibrant and full of compassion.

The one who'd spent her last tortured hours painstakingly conditioning herself to try to protect her family.

"Seo thought Angelus would make her a vampire," Drusilla said. "She didn't know he was planning to use the resurrection gauntlet, instead. She was preparing for that vampiric bite — and she had a plan by which she could take back full control. She sent me a message in the numbers — 'Catch my soul when it falls, Drusilla. For it shall be a shooting star in the night sky.' I reached out to catch it, so I could place it in the Library, as she wanted… but her soul was never taken. Her soul burned. Her goodness was scoured from the universe, until it faded away to nothing."

Tears were rolling down Buffy's cheeks.

She clasped her hand around the necklace, which had once housed her love for her daughter — before it dumped that love inside her, to cause her pain.

Drusilla handed the Doctor the reset orb.

"Take the reset," Drusilla told him. "I've made up my mind. What is my happiness, if her soul has burnt to nothing? I can't live with that. It isn't worth it."

The Doctor took the reset orb. "Thank you, Drusilla. Thank you." He turned, to go. Then stopped, looking at Buffy. He turned back, a smile on his face. "Actually — before we go… there is one more thing you can do for me."

* * *

"Okay, how did we go from everything coming up Xander, to this kind of mess?" Xander asked, his eyes fixed on the sea of lava surrounding the island of rock upon which they were still standing.

There were fountains of lava exploding upwards and vents of thick gas spurting out, all around them. Xander had no idea why they weren't being fried to a crisp or suffocating, right now.

The sky was black.

The only light came from the lava.

Willow looked at the area around them. Then tried to pretend she hadn't, because it was terrifying. "I don't know. It just… happened so quickly." She swallowed, hard. "I think we lost the Fritos."

Giles squinted into the distance. "What's far more distressing is that we seem to have lost Dawn. Buffy will never forgive me, if…"

"I think the distressing part is the fact that we're  _definitely_  about to die," Xander pointed out, gesturing around themselves, "and that we've totally failed to save basically anything that we were supposed to…!"

Willow cried out, spotting something in the midst of the gloom and blackness.

She began running.

"It's the Goddess!" Willow told the others, behind her. "I can see her! She's hesitating. She can't bring herself to destroy the resurrection gauntlet! We still have a chance to stop all this and get Buffy's daughter back!"

The others ran after her.

The Goddess was crouched down, on her knees, the gauntlet in her hands. She just stared at it, as if trying to make up her mind. Her hands were shaking with fear, and her eyes were filling with tears.

"Look, just… put the gauntlet down," Willow said, stopping right next to her. "Please? Pretty please?"

"We know you're Buffy's daughter and a good person, inside," Xander agreed, also stopping beside her, alongside Giles. "You can be that, again."

The Goddess squeezed her eyes shut. "It hurts so much," she breathed. "I can feel it all… and it hurts." She dropped her head. "My parents. I tortured my parents! My friends — torn apart, dismembered, some even eaten alive. My world… destroyed in a nuclear war! And I'm to blame for all of it."

"Yeah, but you've got a huge amount of power, so you can also fix all kinds of things," Willow insisted. "And it's not all over. I mean, yeah, Buffy's gotten her life destroyed, and my dad's about to be sacrificed, but… Buffy's a really nice person, and I know she'll forgive you."

The Goddess snapped open her eyes, locking them onto that gauntlet. "It can be so easy," she whispered. "Just destroy it. No more pain. No more loss. No more guilt."

Xander tried to tear the gauntlet out of her hands, but he cried out — as just touching the metal burned him.

"Willow is right," Giles put in, hurriedly. "Buffy is really quite terribly forgiving. The Doctor, too. They can help you put right all that you have destroyed. They can…"

"No," said the Goddess. Her eyes landed on Xander. "You. I know you. You see everything." She convulsed, as if in pain. "Tell me why I shouldn't destroy it."

Xander swallowed, hard. He didn't know why he, of all of them, had been chosen.

He stepped forwards.

"I… uh…" Xander started, mind going blank.

"When I was a child, I remember trusting you so much," said the Goddess. "With anything. Even when the world was ending, you found time to talk to me." She dropped the gauntlet onto the ground. "It's a feeling that doesn't hurt. A good feeling. I want to feel that way, again."

Xander had no memories of any of that. "You know, I never thought I'd be killed with death by flattery, but… I'm kind of starting to like it."

The Goddess gave a soft laugh.

"You… remember us, right? From some timeline in which you didn't destroy the world, and Buffy raised you and stuff," Xander said. "So… there's got to be a part of you that knows we really  _want_  to help you."

"I believe  _you_  do, Xander," the Goddess admitted.

"Yeah, this flattery thing is giving me a power trip of the 'petrified with absolute terror' variety." Xander took a step closer to her. "The Doctor told us that he gave you a chance — like a whole deal-type thing. You get a soul, and he won't reset the timeline."

"I don't believe him," said the Goddess.

"Yeah, but maybe I do," said Xander, stepping forwards, again. "And maybe I can make sure he keeps up his side of the deal." He offered her a hand to her feet. "There are good things about having a soul, along with bad things — you said that, yourself. You can still get all that good stuff back, and have Drusilla remain saved. Don't you want to…?"

In a second, a man leapt out of the shadows, grabbed Xander, and snapped his neck.

"What was it you said?" Angelus asked, dropping Xander's dead body to the ground. "If worst came to worst, you needed me to — 'pull you out from the abyss'?"

The Goddess' eyes lit up. She mouthed his name.

He came over to her, leaned down, and whispered into her ear — coaxing her, soothing her.

Willow, summoning a ball of magic, hurled it at him, frantically. She had to stop this!

Angelus spun around, his eyes fixed on Willow and Giles. "On second thought, my broken little Say-say," he said, his eyes glowing, "you're gonna have to work this out on your own. Because I'm gonna be having way too much fun with these two."


	24. Chapter 24

"Okay, this'll be easy," Buffy said, as they walked through the light. "We go back, talk to the real Seo, get her to consent, and… done! Timeline is reversed, and I don't have to have the world's suckiest life."

"Yep, pretty much easy peasy," the Doctor agreed. "Specially now that we've got Angel back. Nothing at all to… worry…"

That was when they arrived at the other end — and found it was a sea of lava.

"Or… on the other hand…" the Doctor said, with a cringe, as the portal to Traken closed up, behind them.

They were standing on a small island of calm in the midst of a river of magma and explosions on all sides of them. The sky was black with soot and ash, and the Doctor had absolutely no idea why they were able to see anything, at all — or, for that matter, breathe. Or, come to think of it, exist in any way, shape, or form.

Beside them stood a terrified and trembling Dawn, who didn't seem even remotely aware that she was surviving despite its being a guaranteed scientific impossibility.

On the next island over, they could see (another scientific impossibility — they shouldn't be able to see  _anything_ ) Angel, Willow, and Giles, all fighting. Xander's dead body lay on the ground. Angel certainly didn't  _look_ like he'd been turned good.

"Well, since we're already in the realm of absolute scientific impossibility," the Doctor said, "we might as well assume she did something else impossible — and that's not Angel in any way, shape, or form."

Buffy began running towards them. "I've got to get over there!"

The Doctor pulled her back, before she could get fried by jumping over the lava. "I don't know why we haven't been vaporized or suffocated, already, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that we're right next to her." The Doctor pointed at Dawn. Then, to Buffy, he added, "Let's not chance our luck by testing the limits of whatever is stopping the laws of science from working properly."

Buffy turned on him. "Doctor…!"

"Right now, our mission is to stop her…" The Doctor gestured at the Goddess, who was kneeling by the side of the other island, holding the resurrection gauntlet and trying to decide whether or not to throw it into the lava, "from destroying the resurrection gauntlet. And there's only one way I can think to do it."

Dawn and Buffy both stared at him.

"How?!"

"Stop the explosion," the Doctor explained. "Dry up the lava. Easy as that." He grinned. "Then, just pop on over, ask her for her consent, timeline changes, and none of this ever happened!"

Buffy gritted her teeth. But she acknowledged that this was probably her best option. "Okay, how do we stop the explosion?"

The Doctor gestured at the three of them. "Well, it strikes me that we've got all the necessary elements to carry out the Goddess' own plan — just a few years early. Me, you, Dawn, the Goddess… and a weak point in time and space."

He took a pin out of his pocket, then walked over and stuck Dawn in the finger with it.

"Ow! Hey!" Dawn complained.

A single drop of blood rolled down her finger, then dripped off the skin and dropped through the air.

The air began to flash, around them.

From the other island, the Goddess looked up. Her eyes were fixed on them, and something seemed to be happening inside of her, as well — in reaction to whatever Dawn's blood was doing.

The flashes began to swirl into some sort of loose vortex. It wasn't quite a portal, not exactly. But it looked like the kind of thing that, if one  _wanted_  to create a portal out of it, one could do so very easily.

The Doctor stepped into the middle of the swirling light. Nothing happened to him. He held out his hands, testing it, just to make sure. Then he turned, and gestured at Buffy to follow him. "You trust me?"

"Always," said Buffy, stepping into the light. She shuddered, as it seemed to react to their presence, swirling faster around them. "What's going to happen to us?"

"No idea," the Doctor said. He winked at her. "Let's find out."

Then, the light cocooned itself around them and swallowed them up, completely.

* * *

Buffy and the Doctor found themselves somewhere completely different.

"Where… are we?" Buffy asked, looking around herself.

The Doctor looked about himself, too. It was very glowy and ethereal, with an outline that looked faintly like a garden, around them — but with nothing very distinct. He walked around, trying to touch one of the indistinct shapes, but found he couldn't. He could only move in a very small area — too small to touch anything.

"Don't know," the Doctor admitted. "At a guess… I'd say our bodies are tucked away in some fold of the universe, and this is sort of a… cage for our… you know…"

"Souls?" Buffy asked.

"Consciousnesses, more like," the Doctor said. He reached for his sonic, but it was, of course, not there — since it wasn't his real body. He noticed something on the floor. "Oh, hello." He bent down, and picked it up. "What's this?"

It was a pamphlet. On the front, it said, "Eterni-cage. Created by the Glorious Goddess."

On the back, it said, "Welcome to the rest of your lives."

Buffy grabbed it from him. "This is it, then? This is where I'm going to end my days? In a consciousness prison, with you?"

"Not if I can help it," the Doctor decided.

Buffy shook her head. "No, you don't get it. I mean… I thought it'd be something really bad. A Hell dimension or something. This…" She looked around herself, and shrugged. "This isn't so bad."

That was when the glowing walls suddenly lit up with something completely different. A series of scenes, playing out in front of them, of Angelus hitting, beating up, and tearing apart a woman, in chains, with long mahogany hair — her sunglasses stolen.

_For a second, Angelus thought he might actually have killed her._

_She lay so still against the ground, her face down, her mahogany hair dirty and tangled. He wasn't sure if she was even breathing._

_He kicked her, to make sure._

_She gave a dull groan._

_"_ _Look at you," Angelus said, circling her like a cat about to toy with a mouse. "All that, and you're still begging for more."_

_He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit up. Her head sagged._

_"_ _Six C, eight B… Dreams… Dreams…" Seo rasped._

_"_ _Aw, am I in your dreams, honey?" Angelus asked. He tried to kiss her and she fought against it, struggling to push him away. "You know, you are so pretty when you're broken like this — I can't help myself!"_

_"_ _Nine two, three eight, C seventeen… Dream… of dawn…" Seo breathed, her head dropping, again. "Fourteen F… Feel… her pain… One E, two four… as your own…"_

_"_ _I just love things that are…" Angelus picked up her hand, almost kindly. Then savagely, snapped it. "…broken. At least, when I'm doing the breaking."_

_She cried out, in pain. Then whimpered._

_"_ _Feel… her pain… Dawn…" Seo whispered, to herself, as she tried to push him away from her. She gritted her teeth, concentrating. "D six… twenty nine five, three P… Do not kill… useful… useful… Mom, Father… J seventeen, V seven… do not kill…"_

_Angelus grabbed her back. Traced his hands along the newest set of cuts and scrapes and injuries. "Every way I break you is like another way I know you're mine. Each scar is like… signing my name in the corner of a canvas." He grabbed a needle. "Actually, come to think of it — that's not a bad idea."_

_He stabbed in into her shoulder, and signed his name._

_She almost passed out, from the pain._

_"_ _No, no, you don't! Come back to me!" He poured a bucket of cold water on her head, then slapped her cheeks, until her eyelids fluttered. "There you are. Can't escape from me, that easily." He tilted up her chin. "It means so much more when I can look into your eyes. All that pain. All that fear. Raw, mortal terror." He lowered his voice. "There's nothing better."_

_She tried, again, to get away, but she was too weak. She tried to fight him, but couldn't._

_"_ _When?" she asked, finally._

_"_ _When what?" Angelus asked. He leaned in, grinning. "When will it be over? When are you going to die?" He licked her neck and relished it when she shuddered. "When am I going to have sex with you, again?"_

_She tried to pull away, again. She looked disgusted. She looked scared._

_"_ _To answer your questions, in order — never, when I feel like it, and very soon," Angelus cooed. "How can I help myself, when you keep wriggling so delightfully?"_

_She struggled even harder._

_"_ _You are going to be such art, when I'm through with you," Angelus said. He wiped some hair from her eyes. "Such art!"_

The Doctor closed his eyes, unable to watch any more. "I see." He dropped to the floor. "An eternity spent having to watch Angelus murder our daughter — and probably a whole lot of others. Forever."

Buffy closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears — but that didn't block it out. She didn't want to watch this. She thought an eternity of this might drive her mad. "But… why?"

"Because she knows what happened in 2004," the Doctor said. "She knows what happens when you push us to breaking point. That's what she wants… an eternity of us at that point. She'll tap into that raw, destructive power whenever she needs it. Just so she can reshape and control the galaxy."

"Until Drusilla dies, right?" Buffy asked. "And, after that, it's anybody's guess how far that control can go?"

The Doctor nodded.

Buffy peaked out, in time to see Seo manage to give Angelus a kick that sent him tumbling back. He laughed at her, then gleefully broke her leg. She screamed.

"I don't remember her," Buffy said. "But… I want to. Watching her suffer through this, as she's doing mathy stuff and brainwashing herself to save my little sister…" Tears appeared in Buffy's eyes. "She must have been amazing." She raised her hand up to the necklace — but, of course, it wasn't there. "Maybe I didn't need the love-ecklace, after all. I think… I'd love anyone who went through that much pain in a desperate attempt to protect my family."

The Doctor didn't answer.

He looked like he was focusing, very hard, on trying to block out the images around him.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the whole thing stopped.

Buffy and the Doctor found themselves back, the light from the cocoon vanishing as quickly as it had swallowed them up. There was no trace of it left, at all. The caldera surrounded them, but it was a dried lava bed, now — with no signs of any continuing eruption. Dawn sat beside them. Angel was a short ways away, with Giles and Willow — but none of them were fighting, anymore.

The woman with the mahogany hair was there, too… hunched over and curled up into a ball.

"Yes! Brilliant!" The Doctor ran over to the hunched over figure. "Knew that'd work."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, and began to race over to join him.

But Dawn jumped to her feet, and grabbed Buffy by the arm. "No, Buffy! Don't…!"

The next thing Buffy knew, the Doctor was thrown across the caldera and smashed against the rocks. He groaned, but didn't have time to get up before the woman with the mahogany hair had rushed over to him, and kicked him in the stomach. Then she punched him in the jaw. Then, she proceeded to beat him nearly senseless.

"Don't you get it, Buffy?" Dawn shouted. "It didn't work! She destroyed the glove while you were all freak out weirdness and before the lava dried up!"

A scream.

Angel had sunk his fangs into Willow's neck. Giles attacked him, driving a stake into his back — but nothing happened to Angel. Angel just plucked it back out, and allowed the wound to heal. Then he turned on Giles, and began to tear him apart.

Willow's body fell to the ground, lifeless.

"This Angelus has been drinking my blood since 1875," came the Goddess' voice, from beside Buffy. "Impressive, isn't it?" She grabbed Buffy by the arms. "Thing is, because it's  _my_ blood, that means I'm the only one who'd be able to kill him with the Doctor's little regeneration trick." Her eyes twinkled. "And I don't want to."

"My… daughter…?" Buffy croaked.

"Is now  _completely_  dead," said the Goddess. "Here. I'll prove it."

She walked over to Dawn and took one of her arms in her hand. Then, casually, snapped the arm — making Dawn scream.

There wasn't a single ounce of remorse in the Goddess' eyes.

"I still remember you as 'Mom' and 'Father' and 'Aunt Dawn'," the Goddess put in. "But they're just words, now. Memories. All the brainwashing, the feelings, the compassion and empathy and that stupid stuff – wiped clean."

The Goddess, to emphasize her point, broke Dawn's other arm, too. Dawn screamed, again, sobbing.

Buffy ran out to stop the Goddess, but the Goddess shoved Buffy back so hard that the rock cracked beneath her.

"See?" The Goddess grinned, walking back over to Buffy. "Sorry, Mom, but I think your days of happiness and friends and a normal life are well and truly over." She leaned down, to stare into Buffy's eyes. "Don't you?"


	25. Chapter 25

Buffy was locked in a cell in a place called 'the Initiative.'

It was a tiny cell of glowing white. The front was some kind of plastic — but electrified. She had nothing to do. All she could do was wait, think, and worry.

Dawn was in the cell to the right of her. Buffy didn't know what they had done to her. Dawn never spoke. Dawn never sounded like she was moving. Sometimes, Buffy would see her getting dragged out of her cell, and wheeled off somewhere. She always looked comatose and pale. It made Buffy want to cry.

Sometimes, she did cry.

But most of the time, Buffy spent her days convincing herself that her sister was fine, as she sat in her cell with her back against the leftmost wall.

She could almost feel him, in the cell next to her, leaning against exactly the same spot. Take away the wall — and their backs would be touching.

"Locked up, together, forever," Buffy mused, dully, staring at the white wall opposite her. "I guess we should get used to it."

He just sighed.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked. "She beat you up pretty badly."

"Always okay," he said. But he didn't sound very always okay to Buffy.

They said nothing, for a while.

"We will get out of here, you know," the Doctor told her, at last.

Buffy just gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "To do what?" She rested a hand on her knee. "Giles is dead. Willow and Xander are dead. My dad died way back. The whole rest of my family, too — except for Mom, who's been brainwashed to serve the Goddess without question, and Dawn… and I don't know what they've done to…"

"But they shouldn't be," the Doctor reminded her. "This shouldn't be how it is."

The more Buffy thought about it, though, the more she questioned whether or not he was right. Was there any way back from this? Sometimes, Buffy was afraid that there wasn't. That this was it.

"Don't lose hope," the Doctor told her.

She tried not to. But it was hard. It was so… so hard.

Especially when the scientists studied and hurt her.

Especially when she watched them hauling away her sister.

Especially when she saw them doing who-even-knew-what to the Doctor.

"Timeline congruity," the Doctor explained, once, when he'd been dumped back in his cell. He sounded hoarse, and Buffy wondered if he'd been screaming for the last few hours since she'd seen him. "I'm the anomaly. She likes that, because she likes that I can remember her properly. But to work with her plans, she also needs to snap me mostly back into this reality, so I can assimilate and my personal timeline can stabilize along her intended path. It's just…" He coughed. "Bit painful."

"She wants you to hate her?" Buffy asked.

He said nothing, for a few seconds. "Love and hate, I think," he decided. He broke down into a fit of coughing. "Wants me to remember her, as she was… and feel the pain of knowing it's  _her_  who did all this, now." He paused. Then, with a bitter laugh, "She still calls me 'Father', you know. Just the way she used to… affectionate and sweet. Says it even while butchering my companions."

"Yep. 'Mom' — always 'Mom'," Buffy put in. Tucked up her knees to her chest. "I guess, if I could remember her, properly… that'd kill me, inside, every time she said it."

The Doctor didn't answer. He didn't need to.

Of course, there were also the times that the Initiative guys took Buffy out of her cell and 'tested' her. Drilled sharp things into her skin. Made her scream. Shot energy weapons at her. Pitted her against the most horrible evil she could imagine — until she was bloody and beat up and bruised.

"And the Initiative guys never call us by our names," Buffy said, leaning against the wall she shared with the Doctor. "Hostile 30. That's me."

"29," the Doctor said.

Dawn was 31.

"Still," the Doctor put in, "beats 'Father' and 'Mum'."

Buffy wasn't so sure about that, actually. At least, not to someone like her, who couldn't remember.

"Yeah, but it's just like… I'm not even a person, in the Initiative's eyes," Buffy said. "Either I'm the Slayer, or I'm some temporal ooga-booga thing that they have to poke and inject and slice open, to see how I work."

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath. "They haven't  _really_  sliced you…?"

Buffy hugged her knees. "Not yet — but I know it's coming. I've seen them doing it to others, here." She dropped her head onto her knees, and felt a small smile creep up her face, as she heard a sigh of relief, from the other side of the wall. "Would you have shouted at them, if I'd said yes?"

"Not sure what I'd have done, to be honest. More than shout."

"If they ever do it to you," Buffy offered, "I'll beat them to a Slayer-style pulp. How's that?"

He laughed, a little. But didn't answer her.

Things dropped for Buffy, from the food-hatch, above. Not just food (drugged), but also pictures, photos, books. Once, they gave her Giles' severed head.

Another time, they gave her a sketchbook that Angel had made, back in 1875, of what he'd done to Seo. He wrote in enthusiastic descriptions, as well. Buffy couldn't deal with it.

"Do you get literature of the creepy genre, too?" Buffy asked.

The Doctor said nothing for a long time.

"My… friends," he said, at last. "She's been showing me… my friends." He hissed. "Trying to force memories into my head of watching it happen, too. Just to get me in sync with the timeline. That's the worst."

Buffy prodded the creepy sketchbook with her shoe, trying to scoot it away from her. "Did you get the creepy Angelus-breaking-Seo book?"

The Doctor sighed — a bitterly angry, thoroughly disgusted sigh. "Photocopy. Currently in many tiny little pieces on the floor of this cell."

Buffy thought that sounded pretty good to her. She did the same to her book.

It didn't matter, of course. They just gave them both the books, again. More and more copies.

"I keep getting scared," Buffy admitted, one day, "that one of these days… I'll call your name, and you won't be there."

"Not leaving without you," the Doctor assured her.

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to imagine them sitting back-to-back — without the wall in between them. It made her feel better, to think about them like that. Together. A team.

And the Doctor, true to his word, never tried to escape without her.

He did, however, try to escape  _a lot_.

"Couldn't we give it a rest with the escape thing?" Buffy asked him, after the commandos beat him almost senseless, following one such escape attempt. "You're going to kill yourself."

"One of these days, something will work," the Doctor insisted. "I know it will."

So he kept trying.

And he kept failing.

"Blimey," the Doctor said, sitting back down against the wall, after another escape attempt had failed miserably. "Going up against a Hell Goddess isn't much fun, is it?"

"Welcome to my life," Buffy said.

Buffy didn't know how long she stayed down there. Days folded, one into another into another. She wondered how long she'd have to endure this before she just became numb to it all and learned to block it all out.

Then, one day, things changed.

"I just wanted you to know, Father," said the Goddess, standing in front of the Doctor's cell, "that just because you're locked up, here — that hasn't stopped Angelus and I from redirecting your TARDIS and systematically destroying your life, up above."

Behind her, a video was projected onto the opposite wall. It was large enough that Buffy could see it, too — in fact, probably the whole Initiative could.

It was a video of Angelus torturing someone to death. Horribly. Brutally. Disgustingly.

The Doctor's voice, when Buffy heard it, was quiet but icy, dark, and dangerous. "Rose."

Rose — while traveling with the Ninth Doctor.

By the end of the video, Buffy had put her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Angelus had taken his time with this 'Rose'. He'd broken her before he killed her. He'd relished it.

It was a sight Buffy had never wanted to see.

The Goddess crossed her arms. "Nothing to say, Father?"

The Doctor said nothing.

The Goddess took out a camera and snapped a picture. She grinned at him.

"For the wall," the Goddess explained, turning around, camera still in hand. "Didn't think anything could rival Gallifrey — but I think calling you 'Father' after Rose's death, in Seo's voice with her cute little sweetness… just about topped it."

She laughed, as she left.

Buffy didn't know what to say or do. She'd seen the Goddess slaughter her dad, coldly and cruelly… she had been at a family reunion, when she was 10, and the Goddess had brutally murdered everyone there…

But Buffy didn't think any of that had been as twisted and sadistic as this.

"Are… you okay?" Buffy asked the Doctor.

In a cold voice, shaking with fury, barely above a whisper, he said: "I'm going to kill them."

Buffy closed her eyes. "Doctor…"

She could hear him suddenly doing something very animated, in his cell. He was at work. He had snapped. He was done playing these games.

"Doctor, listen to me," Buffy said, trying to stay calm. "You can't…"

"You can't say anything that'll change my mind," the Doctor interrupted. There were a number of strange clicking and whirring sounds from his cell. "That's not Angel, anymore. That's not Seo, anymore. They're both gone. What's taken their place are monsters — and I have had it. With  _both_ of them." With a sharp breath, he growled, "They're  _both_  dead."

"Doctor!" Buffy shouted, jumping to her feet.

The sounds of movement in the cell beside her paused.

"You said she needed you angry and desperate, to make her plan work," Buffy reminded him. "Don't you see what she's doing? She's making you like that. You're playing into her hands!"

There was a sound like something dropping to the ground.

"I've been thinking a lot about this," Buffy told him. "The biggest advantage we have is that you're divorced from this timeline. The more you get sucked into it, the more she wins." She bunched her hands into fists. "Rose is going to be fine. They're all going to be fine. But we have to win, first."

The Doctor said nothing for a long, long time.

Then, finally, "You're right."

She heard him pacing in his cell, again. It sounded less frenzied than before.

"I'm sorry," Buffy told him. She sat down, again, with her back against the left wall of her cell. "It's just… you're the last hope I've got."

The pacing stopped. When Buffy next heard him, his voice sounded like it was directly behind her — as if he really were sitting with his back against hers, as close together as he could possibly get.

"You're a better person than I am," he told her.

Buffy wasn't really sure that was true. She was just desperate enough to jump at any last hope she could get. "Better with you."

They stayed like that, in silence, for a long time. As together as they could be, with the wall in between them. They were all each other had, in this world. They had to be there for each other. They had to help each other.

There was nothing else.

* * *

The Goddess frowned, in the surveillance room. She strolled up to the array of monitors, and tapped her knuckle against the one with Buffy Summers and the Doctor.

"She's a problem," said the Goddess.

Angelus was still covered in Rose's blood. If it hadn't been for the Goddess, he'd never have escaped the Ninth Doctor's rage, despite the complete invulnerability — but he had, and here he was.

He reached for the Goddess, to put his arms around her.

She shoved him back, without looking. "Take a bath, Angelus. You're going to stain my dress."

"Your dress is black; black doesn't stain," Angelus argued, stumbling under the shove. He regained his balance and snuck up on her, then leapt out and grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her around, his face inches from hers. "Besides — I know you like it."

She didn't protest, this time.

But she didn't fall into his arms and kiss him, either, the way she usually did.

"I've got problems to deal with," she told him, sternly. "My mother, for a start. If I don't do something, fast, she'll mess up all the calculations." Her eyes went unfocused, as she buried herself within her own thoughts. "I should have expected this. Even as a teenager, Mom wasn't an idiot. Give her time to think, and she'll work out everything."

Angelus glanced at the monitor, his eyes fixed on the image of Buffy Summers.

"She shouldn't really be down here," the Goddess said. "That wasn't supposed to be the plan. She should be up top, continuing to live her life with her friends and family — giving you and I the perfect opportunity to grind her into the dirt for a few years and get her really,  _really_  mad." She shook her head, pulling out of Angelus embrace and returning her eyes to that screen. "But then little Say-say started taking over, and the anomalous Doctor showed up — and now, all that's impossible."

"But Say-say's gone," said Angelus.

The Goddess didn't look happier. She kept watching her parents on the screen, her eyes fixed on the two of them — talking. Just talking. But being so… so… together.

"Do you love me, Angelus?" the Goddess asked, out of the blue.

Angelus gave a bow. "Love, fear, and awe, oh Goddess."

The Goddess frowned. "No, I mean… do you  _love_  me?"

Angelus paused. He looked at her, curiously. "If this is about last night…"

"I don't mean sex," said the Goddess. She kept her eyes fixed on the monitor, where the Doctor and Buffy still sat — back to back — talking, softly, to each other, each word filling the other with confidence and reassurance. "I mean… are we a team? A partnership? Do you have my back, through thick and thin? Do you gain comfort from my mere presence, as I gain comfort from yours? If I disappeared, tomorrow, would you miss me — or would you just find yourself a new obsession that you could tear apart and make 'yours'?"

Angelus looked at her even more curiously. He didn't say anything.

"You don't even know what I'm talking about," the Goddess realized. She returned her eyes to the monitor, watching the Doctor and Buffy as they sat, almost back to back, despite the separation of their cell wall. "You know that, when I become a full Goddess, I'm not going home. You can't… I mean, without you…" She paused. Then decided to try a new way of approaching the issue. "I can't assure you Godhood. After all, I'm going to be singular —  _the_  Goddess, the one and only. But I don't want to lose… I mean, you know… I still want us to be… close. I'm planning to bump you up a few dimensions. A demi-god kind of arrangement."

"Well, I figured you'd make me something high enough up that we could still have sex," Angelus said, shooting her a lustful grin. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her towards him. "After all — you can't get enough of me."

She flicked her eyes back to Angelus, just for a second. His groping, roaming, possessive but unloving hands contrasted sharply with that strong, deep partnership that was shared by the two people on the monitor.

She closed her eyes. Sucked in a sharp breath. Then tore herself from his grasp, and turned on Angelus, snapping her eyes back open.

"Separate them, Angelus," the Goddess said, pointing at the monitor. "I want them sad and lonely and miserable and… and…!" Her hand shook with rage. "Just… do something about my mother, Angelus.  _Now_!"

Angelus grinned, his eyes glowing. "It'll be my absolute pleasure." His voice dropped to a growl, his face morphing into his vampiric look, as he left the monitoring room. "And I really do mean that."

The Goddess ran to the doorframe and shouted after him, "But don't…!"

She stopped. Hesitated.

He paused, looking back at her, over his shoulder. "I won't destroy her as beautifully as I destroyed you," he promised. He blew her a kiss. "You're the special one in my life. You know that."

The Goddess said nothing, as he left.

Professor Walsh, from her seat in front of the monitoring equipment, glanced over at the Goddess. In a very low, slightly shaky voice, she offered, "I might be able to do something about that."

"Angelus is taking care of it," the Goddess said, dismissively. She didn't even afford Walsh a glance, as she turned back to the monitoring equipment, to watch. "I granted funding for your research with the understanding that you wouldn't stand in my way, if I needed your Initiative. Remember that."

"I meant…" Walsh darted her eyes over at the door, where Angelus had just departed. "...him. Love. Your little… problem."

The Goddess spun around, suddenly, to face her. Then gave a laugh. "Hell Goddesses don't need…!"

"My research has revealed many insights about the vampiric brain," Walsh said. "Give me a little time and a lot of resources, and I can implant something into his mind that'll make him love you — the same way you love him. I promise."

The Goddess said nothing, for a few minutes.

"Professor Maggie Walsh," said the Goddess, at last, a small smile spreading across her face, "I'm liking your Initiative more and more by the day."


	26. Chapter 26

Spike noticed the sudden drop in the number of vampires, around Sunnydale. He noticed the commandos, now out in a much larger force than ever before, combing the streets of Sunnydale, looking for undead blokes like him.

He took this to mean that his message to the Slayer had failed.

Now, the Goddess was going to be coming after him. And full force.

"This is all the maniac's bloody fault," Spike muttered to himself, as he paced the mausoleum he'd decided to make his home, puffing on a cigarette. "All that reputation I built up for myself, as a Slayer-killer, and I'm about to throw it away, just because that maniac has it in for me."

Nothing for it, though.

Spike knew why he'd failed: he was told to find both the Slayer  _and_  the Doctor. He'd only found one.

This time, he had to get himself both.

* * *

Buffy didn't know why her cell door slid open. She checked on Dawn — but she wasn't in her cell. She ran over to the Doctor's cell — but he was gone, too. Buffy frowned. She was alone, and — for no real reason that she could see, free.

"Buffy!"

The voice she heard was so kind and so familiar, Buffy felt tears prick her eyes as she turned. There, peaking out around a corner, his face as gentle and handsome as she remembered, was…

"Angel?" Buffy whispered.

Angel beckoned at her to come over, and she ran to him. She swept him into a tight hug, then gave him a long, lingering kiss. The kiss was sweet. It was delicate. It was tender.

It  _was_ Angel's.

"I thought the Goddess killed you," Buffy whispered.

Angel shook his head. "She tried, but I ran away. Your spell summoned my alternate-timeline-self back, but it didn't erase me. I'm still here." He held her hands in his. "I've been looking for you for months. I'm here to help you escape."

Buffy looked back. "The Doctor… and my sister, Dawn…"

"We'll come back for them, I promise," said Angel. "But right now, I gotta get you out. If you're not free, they don't have a chance."

She hesitated.

But when she looked into his eyes, she knew… she'd do anything he said. Anything.

An hour later, Buffy breathed the freedom of fresh night air, as she emerged from the Initiative. She wanted to go home, let her mom know she was fine, but Angel stopped her.

"Your mom is fully devoted to the Goddess," Angel warned. "The moment you set foot in your house, the Goddess will know exactly where you are, and she'll take you back. You'll never get a chance to rescue the Doctor or your sister."

Buffy hesitated.

"My place is being watched," Angel said. "But I've found somewhere we can be safe." He turned, and ran through the Sunnydale streets. "Follow me."

Buffy did.

* * *

"Huh," said Buffy, as she approached the little log-cabin that she'd never noticed, before, on the outskirts of Sunnydale. "Never took you for a cabiner."

"Desperate times, desperate measures." Angel unlocked the door, held it for her. "Come in. Quickly."

Buffy did.

It was smaller than she'd expected, from the outside. She could only see one room — the one she was currently standing in — which featured a fireplace, a small fridge, and a double bed. Angel locked the door, and stepped up beside her.

He drew her into a long, deep kiss.

"I'm so sorry, Buffy," said Angel. "Everything I did, while I was Angelus — I'm so sorry."

Buffy was just happy he was still here. She stepped out of his embrace and began pacing the cabin. "Okay, strategy time. We've got to find a way to get the Doctor and Dawn out of the Initiative and away from the Goddess. And then, we've gotta find a way to get Dawn back to her normal…!"

Angel stepped towards Buffy, blocking her pacing. "Buffy," he said, gently. "We can do this in the morning."

"No, we can't just…!" Buffy started.

Angel cut her off by kissing her, again — more passionately. "Ever since that night, I've been dying to feel you, again," he told her. "I need you, Buffy. I need you, now."

"Angel, the last time we… then you…" Buffy shook her head, not sure how to express herself. "I can't risk letting that happen, again. Not now. I've got to get my sister and the Doctor out of the…"

He kissed her, again — more roughly, this time. His fingers reached for her bra.

Buffy, with Slayer strength, threw him back, away from her. "What's wrong with you? I can't just leave…!"

That was when Buffy suddenly had a horrible thought. A thought that might explain exactly what was wrong with Angel. A thought that might explain why she'd actually gotten out of the Initiative, alone and separated from the last friend she had, without the Goddess showing up and stopping her.

"Oh, no," Buffy breathed.

Angel's face twisted into his fang-face. "And here I was, thinking I could see what all the fuss was about," Angelus said. He tilted his head, examining her. "That's the pity of it — I'm the Angelus who disappeared when your boyfriend flipped into this timeline. So I don't remember bedding you."

Buffy ran to the door, trying to force it off its hinges — but the door held, fast.

"Still, I've had your daughter, both willing and unwilling," said Angelus, advancing on her. "So I've got a point of comparison, however you and I choose to do the deed."

Buffy ran to a nearby window and slammed her elbow through the pane — to escape. She cried out, as a jolt of electricity ran through her. It wasn't a window, at all. It was some kind of very sophisticated computer screen.

"But before I do that," said Angelus, running to the fireplace and flipping a switch, "how about I set the mood by torturing and killing the lovely Joyce Summers in front of you?"

Buffy rounded on him, her eyes blazing. " _What_?!"

With the flip of that switch, the walls in the cabin went transparent, showing a second set of rooms, behind, with white, glowing outer walls that looked a lot like the Initiative's decor. Past the fireplace, Buffy could see her mother — Joyce Summers — in one of those hidden rooms that were now revealed. She was tied up to a chair and gagged, looking terrified, trembling as she stared at Angelus.

Buffy felt her anger rising up inside her, as she moved into a fighting position.

"Oh, now look at how scared she is," Angelus said. "Look at how she shakes and trembles. Your mother, Buffy. Your dear, sweet mother — in my hands." He opened a door and stepped into the other room, walking over to Joyce, his eyes predatory. "I can imagine so many things I can do to you, Joyce." He put a finger under her chin and turned her face to look at his. "So many ways you can scream. I could pluck out your eyes…" He tapped each eyelid. "…one by one..." He smiled and took her hand in his. "…or tear off your fingernails and stick your hand into a raging fire…"

Joyce gave a terrified whimper.

"And the best part is," Angelus whispered, leaning down to whisper into her ear, "that you'll get to stare into your daughter's eyes, the whole time, and know that — what I do to her will be  _so_  much worse."

Buffy yanked a leg off a nearby wooden chair, and ran through the door, hurtling herself at Angelus.

He grabbed her up, almost effortlessly, twisted her around, and threw her — hard — against the far wall. Buffy wasn't giving up that easily, though. She jumped to her feet, and flipped over his back, thudding her stake down squarely in his heart.

Nothing happened.

Angelus plucked the stake out of his back. "Sorry, dollface. No can do." He laughed. "Can't decapitate me, either."

Buffy punched at him, then kicked him in the face. He grabbed her leg and twisted it, viciously, making her cry out.

"The spirit and energy of your attacks," Angelus admired, breathing it in. "The persistence. The righteous anger. The certain belief that you  _will_  find a way to defeat me." He smiled. "It's like torturing and killing your daughter, all over again!"

Then, he attacked her.

Blow after blow came so fast, Buffy barely had time to react. She desperately tried to block as many as she could, but they didn't stop coming, and she couldn't get them all. She felt herself getting bruised, getting beaten, and yet she didn't — couldn't — stop fighting. She couldn't let him win.

"Your daughter had so much fire in her," Angelus said, as he grabbed her by the arm and swung her into a wall. She spun back around, and blocked a punch — but it rammed through her block and hit her. "So much spirit! I can see where she gets it from." He blocked her kick, and slammed a fist into her side, making her reel. "Breaking her was the most beautiful thing in the world, I thought. But you'll be even better." He blocked her next attack, and shoved her into the ground. "I'm going to do things to you that I only ever  _dreamed_  of doing to her. Your destruction will be so much more beautiful than hers."

Buffy jumped to her feet and tried to flip over his head and run over to save her mother — but Angelus plucked her out of the air, easily, and slammed her against the floor. Once. Twice. Three times.

Buffy groaned, as she tried to peel herself off the floor. Angelus shook his head, with a laugh. "Disappointing, Slayer. Very disappointing."

He kicked her in the head. Hard.

Buffy felt her world spin.

The last thing she saw, before she blacked out, was Angelus walking over to her mother, sadism evident in his eyes. And the last thing Buffy thought, before she blacked out, was of that recording, and what Angelus had done to Rose…

Then, nothing.


	27. Chapter 27

 

"You aren't thinking of  _her_ , are you?" asked the Goddess, as Angelus tackled her to the bed, tearing off her clothes, his eyes filled with hunger and desire.

He didn't answer. He practically devoured her mouth, as he pinned her wrists down to the bed. He remembered just the position that he'd secured Buffy in, overnight. He wanted the Goddess like that — exactly like that. He wanted to look into those eyes and pretend they were the same.

His greatest work. His greatest masterpiece.

He tried to chain her to the bedpost, but she smacked him.

"You are!" the Goddess accused. "You're trying to pretend I'm her!"

Angelus gave a laugh. "You asked me to break her. Remember?" He licked her up the side of her neck, feeling her shudder, beneath him. "I'm just doing as my Goddess requests."

"I didn't ask you to enjoy it," the Goddess insisted. She shoved him off of her and pointed a finger in his face. "Have you slept with her?"

Angelus hadn't, yet. He could answer her truthfully.

The Goddess looked tense. "The only thing you love about me is how you destroyed me. I don't like it, but that seems to be all I'm ever going to get out of you." She glared at him. "So you don't  _ever_  fantasize about destroying  _anyone_  else, in this room, except  _me_! You got that?"

Angelus pretended to look chastised.

But he just couldn't banish the thrill and the excitement he got, every time he thought about what he was going to do to that Slayer. It was like electricity, running through him.

"Now, for me's sake," the Goddess demanded, lying back down on the bed, "screw me and do it properly."

Angelus did as he was told. But, at the end, he only just remembered to shout the proper name at the climax. If he'd shouted out who he was really thinking about, he figured the Goddess would take Buffy away before he could even  _start_  to enjoy her properly.

* * *

"Where is she?" the Doctor demanded.

It had been a few days since Angelus had absconded with Buffy. The Doctor had noticed. He had been trying to escape, nonstop, since he had. He'd been getting clever — trying to annoy the Initiative guys by playing bad pop music over the intercom or breaking fridges or trying to goad the army goons or trying to find any other advantage he could, so long as it might allow him to get out and save Buffy.

The Goddess figured that a talk with him was a little overdue.

The Doctor stood, in his cell, his body tense, his face livid and furious, and his eyes blazing.

"I asked Angelus to… take care of her," the Goddess said, as she examined her nails — just to prove to him how little she cared about all this. "I imagine he's doing something to her, now, that's a little like what he did to your Rose." She considered. "Actually… no." She grinned at the Doctor. "I think it's probably something a lot worse. And a lot longer."

The Doctor's eyes grew so dark, his face so storming, he was positively shaking with fury. The Goddess wondered if the Doctor would actually try to kill her. Once that happened, he'd be caught in her trap, forever — malleable, in her hands.

The Doctor ran forwards, mouth open and shouts of anger tumbling from his lips — but he got too close to the electrified front panel of his cell — and was thrown back by the electric shock.

"Joyce was thrilled when I asked her to help me," the Goddess continued, still making sure she looked sufficiently disinterested in front of the Doctor. "She didn't realize I'd be turning her over to Angelus and his sadistic pleasures, first chance I got."

The Doctor got back to his feet. It hadn't seemed possible for his eyes to get any darker, stormier, or angrier — but they did.

"Buffy Summers is your  _mother_ , Seo," the Doctor reminded her. "Joyce is your grandmother."

The Goddess shrugged. "And I should care… why, exactly?" She gave him a cold smile. "My mother loved me more than you can ever know. She literally ran through Hell for me. And I loved her. I'd have split apart the universe, to save her. I remember that." She met the Doctor's eyes. "But there's no Seo-soul left in me, anymore, Father. Just her memories. Buffy Summers is merely a tool that I can use to tweak the numbers and advance the plan. I don't really care what Angelus does to her, just as long as it moves her mathematically closer to her inevitable destiny."

The Doctor said nothing for a long, long moment. He studied the Goddess, his brow furrowed, some of the anger falling away.

Then, very quietly and a little surprised, he realized, "You're jealous."

The Goddess bunched her hands into fists. "I am not…!"

"Yes! That's it!" the Doctor said, pointing at her and laughing. "That's what it is! That's why Buffy isn't here — you wanted us  _separated_ , because you saw the two of us talking together and supporting each other and helping one another out…" His voice dropped, as he met her eyes. "And didn't that just burn, seeing all that help and compassion and caring… and knowing that you'll never feel  _any_  of that, ever again?"

The Goddess fell silent.

Then, a little too late, put in, "Don't be absurd."

"You may have destroyed the resurrection gauntlet," the Doctor continued, "but that doesn't make you just-plain-Glorificus. You've got Seo's memories. You remember what it's like to be a part of a partnership. That's what you described to me, the last time we talked — you said that you and Angelus were a team." He shook his head. "But that was your hope. Your wish. I've seen you two." The Doctor met her eyes, again. "You and Angelus aren't like that, really. You never will be. And you hate it."

"Seo is dead, Doctor," the Goddess told him. "I know why you want her back. I know what Drusilla gave you. But Seo isn't here, anymore. I am. And I  _like_  this."

The Doctor leaned against the side of his cell, hands in his pockets. "Do you, though? Do you really?" He gave a small grin. "Or are you having second thoughts about destroying that resurrection gauntlet?"

The Goddess' face flickered with a hint of hesitation.

"Even without a soul," the Doctor commented, noticing the flicker, "I think you're more human than you know."

With an angry growl, she threw up her hands. "Oh, this is useless. I'm making negative progress!" Turned to leave. "You won't get me to trigger the reset, Father. I told you — Drusilla remains saved."

And with that, she began to walk away.

"Because she loves you," the Doctor called out, after her.

The Goddess froze, in place.

"Back in the van, you asked me who would love you after what you've done," the Doctor continued. "I've come up with the answer. The one you already know." He crossed his arms. "Drusilla. And only Drusilla."

The Goddess walked back to his cell, warily.

"That's why you need her saved," the Doctor said. "Not just for the Balance. Not just because Traken is a wee bit hard to get to. Even if you could brush aside the Source with a wave of your hand, you still wouldn't destroy Drusilla. Because you  _need_ someone to care about you — and she's the only one who does. The only one that you know always will."

"Don't be stupid," said the Goddess, but her voice had the faintest tremble in it.

"Because, thing is, you know you'll never get it from Angelus," the Doctor put in, "even though you so desperately want it. That's what you learned from being Seo: you can have the whole universe bow down, before you — but it's not enough. You need at least one person to love you deeply enough to stand up to you, stare into your eyes, and care."

The Goddess said nothing.

"Drusilla loves you like that," the Doctor said. "You know it." He clapped, putting the last puzzle pieces into place. "Yes! And  _that's_ why you're trying to harness so much destructive power!  _That's_  your ultimate goal!" He beamed, rocking on his trainers. "You're going to battle Drusilla. Over, and over, and over again. You'd fight her to the end of the universe, if you have to — because you need someone to stand up to you, look into your eyes, and tell you… they forgive you."

The Goddess tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Of course you'd believe that. The Doctor. Sanctimonious and arrogant, to the end!" She shook her head. "You said those words to the Master — how many times? And… in the end…" She mimed a gun shooting the Doctor in the chest. "No regeneration. Anything, so he could get away from your sanctimonious bleating."

A dark look passed across the Doctor's face, but it was gone almost as soon as it came. It was replaced by sympathy. "You're not the Master, Seo."

The Goddess crossed her arms. "Seo isn't here, anymore. She's…"

"Drusilla is devastated by what's happened to you," the Doctor cut in, standing up straight. "I spoke to her. When she gave us the reset, she said that her life was not worth living, with your soul burned to nothing. She cares so deeply for…"

"Shut up!" the Goddess screamed.

"And Angelus doesn't," the Doctor finished. "Not at all."

The Goddess slammed her foot on the floor, making the whole Initiative shake around her. "I said  _shut up_!"

"I read Angelus' book about how he killed you," the Doctor insisted —  _definitely_  not about to shut up, now that he'd hit a sore spot. "The descriptions, the sketches — it's obvious. What he loves is how he  _destroyed_ you. He loves the fact that he turned you from a savior of the universe into his vengeful, spiteful little monster. But he doesn't love  _you_. Not like that. Not the way you want." He gestured at the other cell. "Before she was taken, your mother told me that you thought of yourself as Angelus' Pygmalion. That's what you  _wished_  were true. Thing is, to Angelus — you're not. You're just a painting upon which he's signed his name, and which he takes out, every so often, to look at and admire. You're not special. You're just Drusilla's replacement."

The Goddess flicked a finger at him — and the Doctor cried out, as a powerful psionic force stabbed through his mind, making him curl up and stumble back.

"Don't you  _dare_ ," the Goddess warned, her eyes furious and burning, "say that, again. Don't you  _dare_ …!"

The Doctor, through his pain, laughed. "Because you know it's true!"

She flicked out another finger at him, and he sank to the ground, overcome by the mounting pain in his head.

"And now, you're leaving your mother in his hands," the Doctor continued, through his pain, "even though you're so deathly scared that he's going to enjoy breaking her more than he enjoyed breaking you. Buffy — his new obsession! Your replacement."

She threw her whole hand at him, and the Doctor doubled up, in so much pain, now, that he couldn't even speak.

She left him like that for a while, just watching him writhe inside the cell.

Then, finally, she dropped her hand and let him go.

"I'll give you one thing, Doctor," the Goddess said. "I  _am_ planning to battle Drusilla, someday. I am, as you say, looking forward to it. She is the most important part of my Godhood." She turned away. "But everything else you've said is a lie."

The Doctor struggled to regain his breath, but was still too weak to get up off the floor. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh? Then why aren't you showing me video footage of Angelus torturing your mother, same way you did when he tortured Rose?"

The Goddess froze.

"It's because you're afraid to watch it," the Doctor answered for her. "Because you're afraid he likes breaking her more than breaking you."

The Goddess looked over her shoulder, glaring at him. "She's my  _mother_! He wouldn't…!"

"Oh, don't give me that! We both know he would," the Doctor said. He tilted his head to the side, tapping his chin. "Course — I know a way you could make sure you're his only obsession. Easiest thing in the world, really."

The Goddess said nothing.

The Doctor met her eyes with his.

"All you have to do," the Doctor said, steadily, his voice dark, "is stop him. Stop Angelus before he goes too far. Don't let him lay one hand on your mother. Just get Buffy out of there." He stepped forwards, eyes hard. " _Now_."

The Goddess looked away from him. Fixed her eyes on the floor, by her feet. For a minute, she didn't move.

Then, she muttered, "I'll… think about it."

And ran off, down the corridor and out of sight.

* * *

Professor Walsh had never seen the Goddess more furious then when she stormed into the pit area of the Initiative, after speaking with Hostile 29. The Goddess was practically burning with anger.

"You!" the Goddess snapped, pointing at Julie Parsoner, the tech person. "Play the Rose tape for Hostile 29. Play it until he breaks down screaming, and then play it twenty more times. I am done with his stupid games!"

Julie ran off, to comply.

The Goddess rounded on Walsh. "How long will it take you to have your Angelus project finished?"

Walsh blinked. "Not for another year, at least, given our current funding and…"

The Goddess turned to a computer bank, and began reprogramming it. "Your funding is now infinite," she said. She hit the enter key, and spun back around. "You've got a week, tops. Got that? In seven days' time, I want Angelus to really and truly love me. And no one else!"

Walsh turned back to her work. "Of course, Almighty One. It will be done."


	28. Chapter 28

Buffy didn't want to be herself, anymore.

Her mother had died only a day after Buffy had gotten there. Angelus had looked up, blood streaming down his fangs and his face, and laughed. "Only got eyes for you, now, Buffy."

Buffy didn't know how long it had been, since then. If it had been hours or days or weeks or months. She was confused, dizzy, barely hanging onto her hope and her sanity. He was playing mind games with her, teasing her, taunting her…

He'd drug her, put her to sleep. Then wake her up, pretend to be Angel, and then laugh in her face when she realized he wasn't.

He'd blindfold her, chain her up, put her through horrible pain — then, abruptly, do nothing for a whole hour, just picking up objects and making sounds that left Buffy terrified as her mind threw up the worst possible things he might be preparing to do to her.

And that was the least of it.

Buffy wanted to scream. She wanted to sob. She wanted to block it out and pretend none of it was happening. Part of her just wanted to let go and let herself fall apart.

Part of her wanted Angelus dead.

Part of her kept thinking… if they got a  _real_  orb of Thessulah… maybe they could get Angel back! Maybe she didn't need to kill him!

"Is this what you did to her… to Seo… when you killed her?" Buffy asked, one day, as she gave him another roundhouse kick. "The mind games. The violence. The family thing."

He blocked her, and punched her in the side. "Not the family part. That was from Drusilla." He grabbed her wrist, as she punched him, and twisted it, sharply. "I met an interesting man named Bilis Manger. I proposed killing your daughter's friends and family. He said he'd already done that — and she simply undid it and trapped him more firmly inside the rift. So I came up with something else."

He reached for Buffy, greedily, and she elbowed him in the face, then kneed him in the groin.

A punch to the gut left him winded — but laughing.

"My Hell army was a little impatient with me, when I killed your daughter," Angelus admitted. "After just one month of torture, they decided they wanted her soul gone — before she had a chance to turn the tables on us." He shook his head, his mind on what might have been. "What I  _really_ wanted to do was break her slowly. Destroy even her spirit. Be able to look into her eyes and see nothing but hopelessness and resignation."

Buffy tried to slam a chair across Angelus' head, but he snatched it out of her hands and threw it at her. She only just dodged out of the way.

"That's why  _you're_  going to be so much fun," Angelus explained. "You've got that same spark. And, unlike her, I can take my time on you."

"I hate you for what you did to her," Buffy said.

Angelus lunged in and kissed her — but he did it tenderly and sweet, just the way Angel used to. Buffy didn't even know what she was doing, as she kissed back.

When he broke away, Angelus laughed in her face.

Buffy punched him and tried to throw him off of her. He just tackled her to the ground, grabbing her wrists with one hand and restraining her, as he trapped her against the ground with his body.

He shot her a savage and lustful look.

"I remember the first time I did this to your daughter," Angelus whispered. Buffy struggled to get him away from her, but he had a strength defied even Slayer strength. "Let's see how you compare, Slayer."

He began to undress her.

That was when the door banged open, and the Goddess stormed in, looking absolutely livid. "Don't you  _dare_!"

Before Buffy knew what was happening, Angelus was gone.

The Goddess had grabbed him and hurled him away from her.

"Seo?" Buffy asked, hopefully, as she fixed her clothing.

But Seo was dead.

Gone, forever.

"I know what you're doing!" the Goddess accused Angelus, backing him into the wall. "You're making yourself another masterpiece! You're replacing me with someone younger and blonder and prettier than me!" She slapped him across the face. "You sick bastard. She's my friggin'  _mom_!"

Buffy tried to take advantage of the distraction to escape out the open door.

The moment she passed through the threshold, however, she felt herself thrown backwards by some kind of… force barrier… thingy.

Buffy peeled herself off the floor. There had to be a way out. There just had to!

"I know you were fantasizing about her, last night, in bed," the Goddess was continuing to shout. "My  _mother_ , Angelus! For crying out loud — I know you vampires are sadistic, but that's just  _sick_!"

Buffy had to admit… for once, she agreed with the Goddess. It was pretty sick.

She ran back to the door, looking around it, trying to figure out some way to deactivate the force barrier.

"What is wrong with you?" the Goddess demanded. "Do you have no boundaries at…?!"

Angelus shut her up by drawing her into a kiss.

Buffy looked away. Angelus looked  _so much_  like Angel… it made her heart break. She definitely  _didn't_  want to see this. Not any of this.

"Relax," Angelus told her, calmly. "I was just having a little fun with her. Whatever she's got, it can't match up to a Goddess, now, can it? No need to be jealous."

Buffy could sense just a hint of fear in his voice, as he spoke to her. She got the feeling that this Angelus knew, very well, that there were certain ways in which he  _shouldn't_  provoke the Goddess — because she was dangerous as all Hell.

"You were about to sleep with her," the Goddess said. "You were…!"

"The only reason I was going to," Angelus explained, his eyes glowing, "is because I wanted to remember how good it felt when I did it to little Say-say, that first time." His voice lowered. "Remember how you tried to struggle? Remember how hard you fought back?" He nipped at her neck, clearly getting excited by the memory. "Remember the fear you felt, when you realized you couldn't stop what I was about to do to you?"

Buffy paused, letting this sink in. She felt a sudden, horrible… sorrow.

"Poor, poor Goddess," Buffy said, shaking her head. "You are so alone."

The Goddess froze.

Buffy looked up at her, sympathetically. "Listen to him. He's fantasizing about the first time he  _raped_  you." She gestured at the look on the Goddess' face. "And it's obvious that you don't like it — that you find it disgusting and humiliating — but you're letting him do it and even willing to encourage him, because you're so, so lonely."

"Quiet, Slayer," Angelus snapped, frustrated. "Your daughter and I are having a moment, over here."

Buffy wasn't planning to be quiet.

Not at all.

"You, Goddess, are the person who destroyed my daughter's soul," Buffy told her. "And I hate you for that. But…" She gestured at Angelus. "...even  _you_ deserve someone better than this creep."

Angelus rounded on Buffy, now fully fang-faced. "If you don't shut up, Slayer — I'm going to pound you into next year."

Buffy crouched into a fighting position. "Yeah? Wanna make something of it?" She narrowed her eyes. "Bring it on, creepo. Anyone who gets off on remembering how he raped my daughter… deserves to be torn to shreds."


	29. Chapter 29

Spike tried to do this stealthily. Problem was, he got caught. Surrounded by commandos, zapped by electricity, and… bam!

Here he was, in a cell.

He reached for a cigarette, but they were gone.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered. His day was just getting worse and worse. He peered out of the front of his cell, at the rows upon rows upon rows of inmates — mostly vampires, like him. What did this place need with so many vampires?

Nothing good.

"Not a cull, then," Spike muttered. "She's doing something."

A blood packet dropped from the ceiling. When he went to open it, a voice from the cell next to him cried out, "Wait! It's drugged."

Spike put the packet down.

"You know what they're up to, here?" Spike asked the occupant in the cell over.

"I don't know! Experiments! Tortures!" The guy in the cell over sounded scared. "No one they take away and bring back ever wants to talk details."

Spike stuffed his hands into his leather jacket. "Huh. Not her style, I'd have said. But what do I know?"

"Not whose…?"

"You seen the Slayer and some skinny-ass Time Lord, around here?" Spike asked, trying to look like he was just asking so he could have the privilege of hacking them to pieces.

The guy in the cell over from him paused. "The… special prisoners."

Spike raised his eyebrows. Oh. 'Special', were they? That sounded, to Spike, like this lot were spelling 'Special' as T-H-R-E-A-T. Maybe that hallucination with the sunglasses had known what she was talking about.

"We almost never see them," the guy in the cell over from Spike said. "They're kept separate from all of us — somewhere to the left."

"Slayer hasn't been seen in days," said one of the inmates from one of the other cells. "The Time Lord's still around, though — usually trying to escape. The kid gets wheeled by, too, every so often. No clue what her deal is."

Spike couldn't guess who 'the kid' was.

"I dunno what this place wants with them," said the inmate. "But when the Doctor gets close — I'm glad for the cage. Know what I mean? He looks like he wants to burn this place to the ground, sometimes. I think he's really,  _really_  dangerous."

Yeah. Spike definitely should have taken both of them, last time.

"Feels like he's planning an escape, now," said a third inmate, around them. "You can always feel it, when he's about to try one. He does something to the power. Humans don't notice, but everyone else… always puts our teeth on edge."

Ten minutes later, Spike's blood packet was empty, and Spike was passed out, on the floor.

The Initiative scientists swiped his cell open, with one of their tags. They bent down, to pick him up. That was when Spike jumped to his feet, grabbed the tag from the scientist, and threw the human against the far wall.

The lights flickered. Then, they went out.

Backup generators whirred into life — but the lighting was still only 50%. A tall, skinny bloke with red trainers and a pinstripe suit was running past Spike's cell, desperate for escape. Spike had better night vision, though — and he could see the goons with guns hiding in the shadows, ready to shoot the Time Lord down.

Spike leapt at him throwing him to the floor.

"Trust me, I'll rip your bloody throat out later, mate," Spike told him, jumping to his feet and grabbing the Doctor up, with him. "But right now, I think you're my only ticket to surviving into next month. So we're escaping."

And they did.

* * *

"I leave you alone for twenty minutes, to check on my mother," the Goddess shouted, "and  _this_ happens?!"

The Doctor's cell was empty.

So was Dawn's.

As for the Initiative's scientific equipment and monitoring stations, most of it was trashed beyond repair. The whole place had been practically torn apart.

The vampires' containment cells had stayed secure, oddly enough.

"I'll go over all the security," Professor Walsh promised. "I'll find out what happened. It'll never be an issue, again, I swear!"

The Goddess grabbed Walsh by the throat and threw her against the wall.

"The only reason you're still alive," the Goddess said, "is because of your little vampire project for Angelus. If that's already been screwed up by this escape thing, then…"

She squeezed Walsh's throat, a little tighter, and Walsh's face began to turn blue. Walsh desperately tried to signal that it hadn't — the Angelus project was going great!

The Goddess dropped her.

"It… it will happen, soon," Walsh gasped, trying to regain her breath.

"I'm glad to hear it," said the Goddess. She turned. "Now, if you don't mind — I have to make sure my mother is still secure."

* * *

Buffy was chained up, now.

Angelus was checking on the poker he was heating up, over the fire. "I used this one on your daughter," he remembered. He stared into the flames, allowing himself to grin at the memory. "She'd tried to escape. Beat up ten Hell demons and even managed to get outside — despite being drugged, beaten, and starved. I had to teach her a lesson, for that."

He took out the poker, and checked it. Hot, but not hot enough. He put it back in.

"Just like I have to teach you a lesson, Slayer," Angelus said, enjoying hearing the sounds of her struggling, frantically, to get out of the chains. "I have a good thing going with the Goddess, right now. I'm not going to let your misplaced sympathy screw it up."

"You have…?" Buffy stared at him. "You're doing something to her," she realized. "You're making her feel alone. On purpose. Just so she'll bend to your every sick, twisted…!" She struggled, again, trying to break out of the chains. "I can't believe someone as good as Angel could turn into someone as evil as you."

Angelus chuckled. "You think this dichotomy is bad? You've clearly never met your ensouled daughter." He shook his head, staring into the fire, a grin on his face. "Sweetest girl you'd ever find. Passionate. Determined. Filled with kindness. Overflowing with goodness. The hero of the universe!" He laughed. "Now, look at her. Ready to tear it to shreds."

He took out the poker, again. Checked it. Red hot. Good.

"That's why I'm so proud, whenever I see her," said Angelus, turning back to Buffy, poker in hand. "Because I took someone so  _good_ , so  _heroic_ , so  _noble_ , and turned her… into…"

Angelus froze.

Buffy was gone. Like she'd just… vanished.

The door burst open, and the Goddess stormed in. "Where is she?!"

"I… I don't…" Angelus started, still not sure what had just happened.

The Goddess smacked him hard enough to send him flying. "You idiot! There's just been a breakout at the Initiative! The Doctor and Dawn are gone. Spike got in and broke them out."

"Spike?!" Angelus stared. "I thought you killed him in Kansas, back in '81."

"Apparently, not," the Goddess said. She seethed, as she ran around the cabin, searching for what could possibly have helped them snatch her mother. "Oh, and of course." She grabbed up one of the Fabergé eggs that was adorning a wall, and smashed it. There was a gizmo inside. "Just like Cassandra." She threw the gizmo to the ground and stomped on it, with a shriek.

Angelus was vaguely intrigued. "I didn't put that there."

" _I_ did — back before the caldera, when I had trouble controlling myself," the Goddess replied. She smashed the destroyed components, again, even more thoroughly. "Seo always comes back to torment me from beyond the grave! I'll never be rid of her!"

Oh.

So Seo had placed this, back before the Goddess destroyed the glove, because Seo had thought Angelus might bring someone in here.

Interesting…

The Goddess spun on him, her eyes blazing. "Find them, Angelus!" she spat. "Find them, kill Spike, and bring the rest back. Now! Or I'll shove your soul back in your body so fast, you won't know what hit you!"

Angelus shuddered and did as he was told.

Some days, he wondered if he would have preferred Drusilla.


	30. Chapter 30

"...evil that, if I didn't need you, I'd rip your throats apart without looking at you," Spike was explaining, once they were all secured and hidden away in a secret bolt-hold. He paced in front of them, smoking a cigarette. "I'm so evil, my name brings terror into the hearts of men. Women faint at the sight of me! I'm so evil that, if I didn't need you, I'd torture that little brat and bite her in the…"

Buffy ignored him. She was watching, intently, as the Doctor buzzed his sonic screwdriver over the comatose and all-too-pale Dawn.

"How bad is it?" Buffy whispered to him.

The Doctor analyzed the readings. "Bad," he admitted. "Very bad. Her brain's not just shut down… it's been burnt out." He put his sonic screwdriver away, and touched her temples. He had a grave expression on his face. "The Goddess must have been afraid she'd become sympathetic to Dawn, over time. Dawn was her weak point. She had to get rid of her, fast, while there was no trace of Seo's soul left."

"But you have to be able to do something for Dawn," Buffy pleaded. "You have to."

The Doctor took his hands away from Dawn's temples. His eyes were dark.

Buffy felt like she wanted to cry.

"Hey! You two listening to me, over there?" Spike shouted, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. "I'm telling you — I'm the big bad." He took a drag on his cigarette, then spread open his arms. "I'm the Slayer-killer. I'm the doomsayer for all…"

"Yes, fine, got that," the Doctor interrupted. He turned on Spike. "One thing. Why, exactly, did you rescue us, Spike?"

Spike paused in mid-rant. Then dropped his hands. "Well, as long as you get how bloody terrifying I am." He leaned back against the wall. "Vampires started getting swept up. I thought the maniac was planning something. I needed protection." He waved his cigarette at them. "Thought… if I saved you, maybe you'd be willing to help me."

The Doctor nodded, slowly. "Right…"

Buffy glanced at him. He had one of those weird pensive looks on his face. Whatever he was thinking about, Buffy figured that meant it was her turn to do the talking.

"You helped us before, and it didn't work out very well," Buffy reminded Spike. "What made you think we could do better, this time?"

Spike pointed his cigarette at Buffy. "I helped  _you_ , last time." He shifted the cigarette so it pointed at the Doctor. "Not  _him_. That hallucination said I'd need both of you." He took another drag on the cigarette. "Bloody mess I made of that, first time around."

The Doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Well, if it helps — I've still got the reset switch."

Buffy stared at him. "Really?"

"Hidden away and safe, but yes," the Doctor said. "Set it to auto-activate, once Seo hit the second trigger."

"But Seo's dead," said Buffy.

The Doctor tapped his head. "The trigger is still inside that brain — and the brain is now controlled by the Goddess. That means we need  _her_ to agree to trigger the reset."

Buffy buried her face in her hands. This was not filling her with confidence.

"Don't give up hope!" the Doctor said. "I know I can get through to her. Given a little time and a little cajoling, I'm sure I can…"

"Sorry, reset switch?" Spike cut in.

The Doctor sighed. Turned back to Spike. And explained everything that had happened to them, involving Drusilla and Traken.

Spike stared. He almost dropped his cigarette.

"You mean… there's a way we could take this whole bloody mess back, and keep the world full of meals-on-legs and easy transport?" Spike asked.

"But we need the Goddess to agree to reset the timeline," Buffy explained. Then, to the Doctor, "Isn't there any kind of spell or gadget or space-timey thing that could get her soul back? Anything?"

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "Doubt it," he said. "Soul's not gone. It's burnt. Dead." He ran a hand through his hair. "Perhaps if, by some miracle, the tiniest spark of Seo  _did_  survive…" He shook his head. "But, no. Even then, it could take decades or even centuries to manifest, properly. We don't have time." He ran a second hand through his hair. "If we could get an  _actual_ orb of Thessulah, we might be able to try it on Angelus, again, but…"

Spike actually laughed at them.

They both stared.

"You two some kinds of idiots, or something?" Spike shook his head. "Way I hear it, the Goddess has Angelus on a tight leash. " He snapped his fingers. "Click of her fingers, and she can give him or rob him of his soul. Easy as that."

The Doctor's face grew a little graver. "Ah." He scratched his head. "Wish I'd known that, earlier."

"Look, you wanna get her to press this reset switch?" Spike shrugged. "It's easy." He stepped towards them. "All you gotta do is destroy her life. Kill everyone in it that makes her want to keep this timeline intact."

Both Buffy and the Doctor fell silent.

They didn't move.

"Oh, fine, if you won't do it — I'll start," Spike said. He turned on Dawn, his face morphing, and lunged at her — to bite her neck and kill her.

Then, with a cry, he flinched back, his hand to his head.

"What the bloody hell?!" Spike shouted.

"First thing they do with vampires, in the Initiative — chip them so they can't kill humans," the Doctor said. "Safeguard. Just in case a vampire gets free and tries to kill its captors." He looked over at Dawn, his eyes growing cold. "Thing is… Spike has a point."

Buffy interposed herself in between her sister and the others. "No."

"We know what the Goddess wants," the Doctor said. "We know who she loves. And we know how much she needs Drusilla to remain saved." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Take away Angelus, take away Drusilla, take away the Key, take away any ability to become a full Hell Goddess or properly stabilize a passage to her own universe… and she'll have nothing left. She'll trigger the reset switch."

Spike grinned. He was liking how much death and slaughter this plan had in it.

"Doctor, Dawn is my sister!" Buffy shouted. "You can't…!"

"She isn't your sister — she's energy taking on a form you're attached to, in order to make you unable to kill the one thing the Goddess needs to destroy the Earth," the Doctor snapped. He leaned down, his hands on her arms. "She's dead, Elizabeth. She's never waking up. Her brain has been wiped and blanked. All that's left is her blood — and that's what the Meyomelae Krvas needs."

Buffy began to cry.

The Doctor chided himself — he really was a bit rude, sometimes! — and put an arm around her shoulders, explaining it to her a bit more gently.

He knew that, while it might take some time for Buffy to come around to it… Dawn Summers was the easiest part of all of this.

The Doctor turned back to Spike. "Drusilla isn't happy about what's happened, here, either. She's already told us that she wants the timeline reversed — so if I can just nip back and talk to her, I'm sure I can get her to agree."

"To kill herself?!" Buffy asked, through tears.

The Doctor folded his arms and shot Buffy a pointed look.

Buffy looked away, and returned to crying about her sister.

"So that leaves two people to kill," said the Doctor. "One being myself. Bit tricky to kill me, what with all the incarnations, but I can probably hook up some temporal jiggery-pokery and find a way."

"And the Slayer?" Spike asked, hopefully.

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath. "I… was hoping to keep her alive. That's why I said I'd go." His eyes shifted back to Dawn. "The Goddess needs both of us, to take advantage of this paradox she's found. That means, if one of us is dead, the plan still falls apart." His eyes shifted to Buffy. "If I'm dead – she can survive."

"So, you're saying the Goddess wouldn't get any pleasure, at all, from beating the living daylights out of the Slayer?" Spike double checked.

The Doctor said nothing.

"That sounds to me like she's on the list," Spike said.

"No, she's not…!" The Doctor gritted his teeth, turning back to Spike. "I'll find another way!" He pointed at Buffy. "But she lives! Got that? She's the only companion who's survived – so I'm not letting her die."

Spike just took a drag on his cigarette, and purposely blew smoke into the Doctor's face.

The Doctor coughed, stepping back.

"And the last one we've gotta kill?" Spike asked.

"Angelus," the Doctor said. "The most dangerous." The Doctor tried to wave the extra smoke away with his hand. "She's in love with him."

"Yeah, no kidding," Spike muttered. "Couldn't not be, considering." He took a drag on his cigarette. "He doesn't give two saps about her, by the way. He's just bloody terrified of her — so he'll do anything she wants. And she gives him enough perks to make him feel like he's got the better deal."

The Doctor frowned, considering. "She… couldn't not be? Why not?"

"Something he did when he broke her," Spike said. "I don't bloody know. Angelus bragged about it – but never in a lot of detail. Know it's supposed to just be about sex and not about love – but I guess she equated one with the other."

"She's lonely," Buffy put in, still in tears over her sister. "Angelus implied that he was keeping her lonely on purpose. I don't think she knows he is."

Spike flicked some ash off his cigarette. "Doesn't matter, anyways," he said. "If she works out what he's done to her, she'll kill him for us, sure – right before she burns this whole bloody universe down, around our ears. She's a maniac, you know."

The Doctor looked grave. "That's… probably true."

"But if we kill Angelus, while she still loves him," Spike countered, "she'll trigger the reset so she can get him back." He shot a look at the Doctor. "Don't get clever on this, Time Lord. This isn't about brains. This is about death."

The Doctor didn't look like he was thrilled about this. But he accepted it.

"We… still need someone around, at the end," Buffy said, standing up, wiping the tears from her eyes, "to talk her into triggering the reset switch. After all, the Doctor and I will be dead…"

The Doctor spun around, to face her. "I never said…!"

"You know I have to," Buffy snapped at him, angrily. "Spike's right. She wants to hurt me. It's one of her few pleasures in life. We both have to die, Doctor, in order to deprive her of that." She looked back at her sister, still comatose. "I'm about to kill my sister for this. Angel's gone. Mom's gone. Giles, Willow, and Xander are gone. I'm about to lose you." She shrugged. "I've got nothing else."

"Elizabeth…"

"I've made up my mind," Buffy told him. "But that still leaves one person, at the end, who needs to be alive. And, as much as I hate to say it — there's only one guy I can see who fits the bill."

All eyes landed on Spike.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike stabbed his cigarette at them. "You know she wants me dead, right? Has done since 1959."

"Yes, but  _Seo_  respected you," the Doctor said. He nodded at Buffy. "I agree. It has to be him."

"Good, that's decided," said Buffy.

Spike threw his cigarette to the ground. "Not by me, it hasn't! Who's to say she doesn't…?!"

The Doctor reached into a secret pocket in his suit jacket, and handed Spike a long silver necklace with a glowing piece of amber at the bottom. "Give her this, at the end. She'll come round."

Spike scowled. "Jewelry? A bloody piece of jewelry?!"

"Bit more than that," the Doctor said. He smiled. "Trust me. She'll come round." He turned back to Buffy, and the smile dropped. "Which leaves us with our biggest problem. The hardest one to destroy."

"Angelus," Buffy said.

"Angelus," the Doctor agreed.

Spike put away the jewelry. "Well, if I've gotta survive to the end, then you're on your own for that one."

"We're aware of that," Buffy snapped at him. She turned back to the Doctor. "You realize he's way faster than normal vampires. Right? And stronger. And he can't be staked, or decapitated, or…"

"Time Lord blood," the Doctor sighed. "She's been dosing him – very carefully – for over a century." He turned to Spike. "Is it just Angelus, who's drunk her blood? No one else?"

Spike shook his head. "Just him. No one else. The bloody romantic!"

"So my trick from 2005 wouldn't work, anyways," the Doctor said. "And if she's been dosing him since 1875…" He looked over at Spike, to confirm this. Spike nodded. The Doctor continued, "…then we're long past the point where pure iron works. Can't give him back his soul, because she'll just take it away from him, again. Can't let her kill him, because she'll tear down everything else, too." He ran a hand through his hair. "Blimey. It's a bit of a pickle, isn't it?"

Buffy said nothing for a long moment.

Then, finally, "Doctor — is there any way to get Angel back?"

The Doctor cringed. "Technically? Yes. But no way to make sure he stays like that." He snapped his fingers. "Click of the fingers, and his soul will be gone."

Buffy nodded. Her voice trembled. "Then… there is a way to kill him, and do all the other stuff, at the same time. But  _I_ want to be the one to do it."

The Doctor frowned.

Then he realized…

"Oh, Elizabeth, that is brilliant," the Doctor said, beaming and jumping. "Just… brilliant!" He noticed the somber look on her face, and cleared his throat, removing all cheer from his face. "Yes, sorry. I understand."

He began pacing, back and forth.

"Course, it'll not be as simple as all that," the Doctor continued. "To do your plan, we'll need energy. Great big gigantic batch of energy. Enough energy to blow a hole in the universe. Last time, we had Dawn — the Key — not to mention a schizophrenic Hell Goddess and a bit of help on the other side. This time…"

"I know," said Buffy. "This time, we've got nothing." She paused. Then, suddenly, "Hang on. We've got a whole Hellmouth, here! That's not nothing."

The Doctor's mouth formed an 'o'. "No… we don't! It's January, 1998!"

He began to run.

"What do you mean, it's January, 1998?" Buffy asked, running after him. "Doctor, I don't…!"

"We don't have a Hellmouth!" the Doctor shouted back. "We have a Zenuranium-12 temporal explosive device! And that's a bang that'll blow the doors off any universe!"


	31. Chapter 31

 

The Doctor soniced the door shut, then began to build a barricade. "Spike, help me with this!"

Spike took over, piling things in front of the door. He kept darting his eyes over to the monstrosity on the table. "What is…?"

"No time, no time!" the Doctor shouted, as he scurried about the place, rewiring and changing around all the machinery, building something truly brilliant. If he could just channel his own regeneration energy into this new machine he was building, when he killed himself, it'd be enough to tap the energy of the Zen-12 bomb and zap all his other incarnations out of existence, within this timeline, permanently. No chance of coming back from that.

The door heaved, as the commandos tried to force entry.

"Doctor…!" Spike warned, as he pushed from the other side.

"Bit more time!" the Doctor urged, still working, furiously. "Bit more time."

Unbeknownst to the Doctor (focused on the machine), or Spike (pushing against the door), the monstrosity on the table twitched. Then, slowly, sat up, looking down at its hands and its surroundings.

It spotted the Doctor. Got off the table.

The Doctor heard the noise. "Just a bit longer, Spike," the Doctor said, thinking Spike was right behind him. "Nearly got it. Just have to connect these little blue wires, here, and the red ones, and the purple ones, of course, and then…"

The Doctor gasped.

Spike spun around, just in time to see the Frankensteinian monster from the lab table jab a Polgara demon spike through the Doctor's left heart.

The Doctor's skin glowed golden.

"Oh, bugger," Spike muttered, knowing what was about to happen, next.

The barricade broke and the door burst open. Spike was practically smashed behind the heavy steel of the door, as the commandos entered, spreading out, their taster blasters ready.

That was when the Doctor's body burst apart into a dazzling gold energy… which then vanished, as the energy was fed into the machine.

The machine tried to hum into life.

The Frankensteinian monster turned on the commandos, ready for fresh blood. They tried to fire at it, but it absorbed their taser blasters. They tried to fight it, but it wouldn't go down.

Spike got out from behind the steel door. He was a little astonished that he was still alive, and not turned to ash by the regeneration. Still, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. He snuck by the carnage and made his way over to the machine. "What did he say? Blue wires? Pink wires? Or was that purple?"

Spike could see a whole bunch of wires still sticking out, waiting to be connected. He fumbled with them. There weren't that many. Maybe if he tried all the combinations, he'd get one that would work?

So that's what he did.

Five minutes later, Buffy ran into the room, from the back entrance. "Angelus is right behind me. Where's the Doctor?"

Spike finally finished, and the machine blazed into life.

"Gone, now," Spike said, as the machine sought out and killed every incarnation of the Doctor, across time and space. "Just like he wanted." He handed Buffy something that looked like a big red button – which the Doctor had clearly made for her, earlier. "Here."

Angelus threw the door down, and stormed into the room.

"Spike, get out of here," Buffy whispered to him, setting down her crossbow and setting up some kind of wire. "If you're in here when I press that button, you're a goner."

"Don't have to tell me twice," said Spike, sneaking out the back.

Angelus didn't care about Spike. He charged towards Buffy, grabbing her up by her collar and getting right into her face.

"Hello, Lover," Angelus said.

Buffy met his eyes, evenly. "Goodbye, Angel."

And she pressed the button.

The moment she did so, a portal burst open, before them, swirling with a brilliant white light that was stronger than any visible light should be. A beautiful sunlit meadow shone on the other end of the portal, filled with laughing children and stone Melkur.

A howl rose up across the room, as the light shone out from the portal and encompassed everyone therein. Angelus' eyes went wide, as he dropped Buffy and tried to stumble back. But he couldn't. His legs were already turning to stone.

"How…?! Why…?!" Angelus shouted.

Behind him, the bio-mechanoid known as Adam howled, as he found himself also turning to stone.

"Have yourself a nice dose of 'the Source', Angelus," said Buffy, darting into the portal. "I've got a date with Drusilla."

Angelus recognized the name. "Drusilla!" He struggled to get to the portal, to reclaim his obsession — but only managed to lean forwards, one hand extended in greed and desire, before his entire body turned to stone.

* * *

"No!" the Goddess shouted, as she approached room 314. She dared not go too close to the door — where the light still shone in, from Traken. But she could see enough, through it, to know…

Things had gone wrong.

Very, very wrong.

She'd felt time twist and turn, as the Doctor had died across every incarnation. She could see Angelus, inside, now just a stone statue. The Hellmouth bomb had been disabled, so her monsters were about to start evaporating, as probability caught up to the present, and…

And…

"The fire alarm was for… a body, we believe," said the commando known as Riley Finn, as he reported in. "Someone had drained all its blood and lit it on fire. We don't know why." He handed her a Polaroid. "But it's her. Hostile 31."

The Goddess stared at the Polaroid.

Then she screamed.

A figure appeared in the portal, carrying a body. The portal closed, behind the figure, and the Goddess threw down the Polaroid and ran into the room.

"No!" the Goddess screamed. She could see the body in Buffy's arms — Drusilla Keeble. "No, no, no!"

"She felt so guilty about what happened to you," said Buffy, putting Drusilla down. "She couldn't stand it. She said she'd rather die than live with the guilt of knowing what she put you through." She closed Drusilla's eyes, somberly. "You didn't save her, Seo — you killed her. You killed everybody."

"You!" the Goddess accused, pointing at Buffy, as she advanced on her. "This is your fault! You did this!"

"My sister is dead," Buffy said. "The Doctor is dead. Angel is dead. You killed all my friends. You killed all my family. You tore apart my life." She threw open her hands. "I have nothing left to live for."

Buffy stepped forwards.

She kicked the trip wire she'd set up, earlier. The crossbow, in response, thudded a bolt directly into her heart.

"Goodbye," Buffy said, as she fell… and died.

The Goddess ran over, catching Buffy's body in her arms. "No." She leaned over, and felt herself shaking. "No, no, no, no no!" She cradled the body in her arms. "Mommy…"

A tear ran down her cheek.

Then another.

Then another.

Footsteps.

A throat cleared, above her. The Goddess recognized who it was. She didn't care.

"If you're going to kill me, Spike," said the Goddess, not looking up at him, still cradling Buffy's body in her arms, "then do it. Get it over with. Do me a favor."

"Love to, but I got a better offer," said Spike. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Heard you got some kind of trigger, in your head, for a 'reset switch'."

The Goddess said nothing.

"Just thought, now that you've got nothing left to live for," said Spike, with a shrug, "you could set that off. Get everything back."

The Goddess dropped Buffy, a coldness rising through her. She got up from the floor and turned, facing down Spike.

"No," she said.

Spike blinked. "No?"

"You put them all up to this, didn't you?" the Goddess said. She gave him a slow clap. "Well played, Spike. Well played. Give me nothing left to live for, entice me to reset the timeline. But — you know what?" She spread open her arms. "If I've gotta lose, I'm not letting you have the satisfaction of winning."

Spike stared at her.

"So, no," said the Goddess. "I'm not resetting anything. I've got some Key in me, too. I'll just rip open the multiverse myself, in 2001, and bring everything in the multiverse to a screeching halt, as I try but fail to go home." She dropped back her head, and laughed. "Death of everything! The ultimate act of revenge."

"You really are a bloody maniac, aren't you?" Spike said. Inside his pocket, he felt the silver chain of the necklace the Doctor had handed him. What had the Doctor said? Show that to her, and she'll hit the reset?

He yanked it out of his pocket and thrust it into her hands.

"You get on with destroying everything," Spike said, turning, and heading out. "I'm gonna get myself a bite to eat and see where the next Slayer's popped up. Maybe I can kill her, too. Know what I'm saying?"

The Goddess stared down at the necklace.

Her jaw dropped open.

"That's… but that's… impossible!" the Goddess said. "That's…!"

She looked around herself… at everything she'd lost. All the dreams that had died, in this room. And then she looked down at that necklace.

"If I do this, I get split in two, again," the Goddess reminded herself. "Half of me stuffed inside Ben. The other half with a soul and no idea who I am. If I do this…"

She stared at the necklace. Wrapped her fingers around the pendant, feeling what the Doctor had done. And she realized — perhaps, in the end, this really  _had_  been all she'd ever cared about.

Soul or no.

She closed her eyes.

And triggered the reset.


	32. Chapter 32

 

**Sunnydale, November 20, 1998**

"I'd do  _anything_ to take back what I did to Drusilla," Angel insisted. "But he just waltzed into the mansion, acting like it has to happen, and all he can do is be the inhuman, stone-hearted Time Lord, bending the universe to his will! He  _wants_  her to be destroyed and insane! He said…!"

Sunglasses held out a hand, and Angel stopped talking.

"Drusilla. Yes, of course. I remember," said Sunglasses. "The Daleks got her, in the end." She shook her head. "A bad way to go." She looked up at Angel. "Do you want me to save…?"

Sunglasses blinked.

In her outstretched hand, she was now holding a necklace — a silver necklace with a small amber pendant at the bottom. The amber flashed in the light. It was almost glowing.

"Now that's interesting." Sunglasses took back her hand, studying the necklace. "Where did you come from?"

Angel stiffened as he noticed the necklace. "Of course. You're a vengeance demon." He laughed into his drink. "I should have known." He got up from the table. "Tell D'Hoffryn it's nice to offer, but no dice. You're not getting the w-word out of me."

"I'm not a vengeance demon," Sunglasses said, her eyes still fixed on that pendant. "I've never seen this, before." She looked up at Angel. "It appeared right at the moment when I thought, 'Hm… this could go really,  _really_  wrong. Maybe I should put in a reset switch.'"

"I don't understand," said Angel — but he looked like he didn't particularly care, either.

Sunglasses attached the necklace around her neck, then turned back to Angel. "Tell you what, Angel. I'm going to head off and do a few errands. I'll pop back to see you in a decade or two, when you know who I really am. And then…" She leaned back, giving him a soft smile. "...I'll give you the one thing you want more than anything else."

Angel gave a dry laugh, and turned to leave the bar. "I don't even know what that is, anymore."

Sunglasses watched him leave, her drink still in her hand.

"But I do, Angel," said Sunglasses. She looked into her drink. "I do."

* * *

**Los Angeles, 2009**

"Hello, Angel," said a woman with a sleek black dress and sunglasses on her head, as she appeared in the doorway to his office.

Angel looked up.

He blinked.

"It's… you, again," he said, "isn't it?" He pushed aside the work on his desk. He studied her, remembering what Buffy had told him. "I know who you are, now. You're…"

Sunglasses smiled.

There was still a bit of Buffy, in her face — especially when she smiled. Not as much as in her first incarnation, but… if you looked, it was there.

"Seo Summers," Angel said. "All grown up." He crossed his arms and shot her a stern look. "And invading her mother's past, apparently."

Sunglasses cringed. "That's… true." She leaned in, and whispered, "But, to be fair — who  _wouldn't_ , if their mom's past included a Hellmouth? Do you know how long I've been curious about that?"

Angel sighed. Yes, she was still the same Seo. Inside and out.

"Besides, it's cute to nip back in time and see your parents dating," said Sunglasses, sitting down, across from Angel. "And if I interfere in the affairs of Sunnydale, from time to time… well… I'm not hurting anyone, really. It's just fun!"

"I don't know a lot about time travel," Angel told her. "But even  _I_  know that what you're doing is insanely dangerous. One day, Seo, you're going to get yourself killed — or worse."

Sunglasses stuck out her tongue. "You sound like my sister and Jack, now." She shook out her hair, and adjusted her sunglasses. "But enough of the chew-out session. Back in 1998, I told you I'd stop by and give you the one thing you wanted most."

Angel laughed. "Oh? And what's that?"

Sunglasses dropped the necklace — with its amber amulet, now dull and no longer glowing — onto the desk, in front of Angel. Whatever had been in the amulet, it was no longer there, now.

She stood up.

"Come," she said. "I'll show you."

"The Library," Seo said, gesturing around herself, at the stacks and stacks and stacks of books. She turned back to her companion. "Safe as houses! If those houses are in the middle of a volcano. While it's exploding."

Angel frowned.

"Let's just say that it's slightly infested with Vashta Nerada," Seo told him. She paused. "Very infested with Vashta Nerada." She tapped the side of her sunglasses, and they shot out a beam of light. "But it's nothing I haven't braved, before. Come on."

Angel hesitated, but followed her. "Where are we going, exactly?"

Seo beamed. "Cal. Don't worry; I know the way." She gestured for Angel to follow her, and rushed off. "Stay close, stick to well-lit areas, and if you feel Vashta Nerada nibbling at your toes, scream."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Angel found out that Cal was a computer.

A minute after that, Angel found himself inside that computer. Except that it was hard to tell, because everything felt so real. A nice, sunny day, walking down a pleasant-looking street, passing the occasional jogger or passerby.

The only way Angel could tell it wasn't real was that he was in sunlight — and not getting burnt.

"I never thought I'd be able to do this, again," Angel admitted, seeing the way the sun illuminated his skin. "That's… amazing. It feels real."

"Yeah, Cal's a bit special. It's why she picks me up — even when she shouldn't." Seo grabbed his hand, her eyes glittering. "But, trust me — this isn't the part you're going to like." She tugged him behind her, as she raced off. "She's up ahead."

It was an ordinary-looking house, with a front garden blooming with flowers, and a watering can that looked like a cat left out by one of the hedges.

Seo sprinted to the front door and rang the bell.

Angel could hear someone, inside, humming as they ran the water, doing the dishes. He could see the silhouette, in the window. As Seo rang the bell, again, the water shut off, and the silhouette dried her hands.

"Be there in a minute!"

Angel's eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped open. "But… but that sounds like…!"

The door opened, and there, in the doorway, stood a woman wearing a nice dress of a strangely alien-looking design and an Earth-style apron. Her hands were still soapy, and her curls were pulled back. Her face was perfectly sane, perfectly sweet — older, true, but still with the expression he remembered from a London street in 1860.

When she spotted Seo, her eyes lit up.

"You came!" Drusilla cried, sweeping Seo into a hug. "I'm so glad. No trouble with the Vashta Nerada? River has been very, very concerned." She opened the door wider, so Seo could come in. "She says you stop by, here, all the time, and have nearly been eaten at least…!"

Drusilla trailed off and stopped breathing, frozen in place, as she saw the man standing in her front garden. Her expression turned to sudden terror, and she began shaking.

"It can't be…" Angel breathed.

"Oh, dear Lord in Heaven, help me," Drusilla prayed, getting ready to yank Seo inside and barricade the door.

"No, no! Drusilla!" Seo put an arm around Drusilla's shoulders. "It's not what you think! I'd  _never_  put you somewhere where you'd be in danger. You know that."

Drusilla shot her a look that reminded her — Vashta Nerada?

"Okay… minimal danger," Seo amended. "Mostly to me." She beamed at Angel, and gestured for him to step forwards. "In 1898, Angelus went one step too far. He annoyed some Kalderash, and they cursed him by giving him back his soul. He's good-soulful Angel, now — not evil-killy Angel!"

Drusilla's terror started to fall away. She looked between Seo and Angel, nervously — still prepared to dart in and get Seo out of there, at a moment's notice.

"Angel has never forgiven himself for what he did to you," Seo explained to her. "He asked me to go back and save you. When I wondered whether or not it would be a good idea — that necklace appeared in my hand. You were inside the pendant, and… you know the rest."

"Yes," Drusilla muttered, looking at Seo with sorrow in her eyes. "I know the rest." She cast another weary glance at Angel, then returned her eyes to Seo. "Better even than you."

Seo gave her a reassuring smile, and squeezed her with the hand already around her shoulders. Drusilla still didn't leave the entryway to her home – but dragged Seo so she was a little behind her, and also in the entryway.

"How… is this possible?" Angel asked. He stared at Drusilla, unable to believe what he was seeing. "That's her. Not a hologram or a recording or anything. That's… the real Drusilla. An older, wiser, human Drusilla."

"Unvampirized and just as beautiful and brilliant as ever," Seo agreed. Her eyes twinkled. "Don't you see, Angel? I did it. I went back and saved her! Scooped her out of danger, put her on…" She glanced back at Drusilla, double-checking. "You said Traken, right?"

Drusilla nodded.

"And when the timeline imploded or… whatever happened…" Seo explained, turning back to Angel, "this version of Drusilla wound up inside the pendant of that necklace, allowing me to be able to bring her back! I placed her in the Library, here – and now, she can finally live the life she deserves. The life she never had."

Angel couldn't believe it. He just… couldn't believe it.

He remembered that day, in Willy's bar. He thought he'd had a close scrape with a vengeance demon — or someone with vengeance-demon-style powers, at any rate. He'd been so embarrassed about getting caught by it, he hadn't even told Buffy.

But here she was.

Drusilla Keeble.

"Well, go on," Seo urged them both, seeing them both staring at each other. "Aren't you going to… apologize… or forgive each other… or run over and hug each other, or… maybe just say hello… or…?"

Drusilla looked into the eyes of the man who had hurt her beyond belief. The man who had driven her to the point of insanity — and, when she'd been saved, who had turned on her savior and burned out Seo's soul. The universe had turned into such a dark and twisted place, all because of this one man's sadistic and amoral obsession with her.

Angel gave an uneasy wave. "Hi, there, Dru. It's… um…" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "…good seeing you, like this, again."

Drusilla's eyes blazed. She didn't move from her front porch. "You…" Her voice shook. "You ruined my life!"

Angel sighed. "Yes," he admitted. "Yes, I did." His eyes lingered on the ground. "There's nothing I can say that'll take the pain away. Nothing I can do that'll ever make up for it. But, since I've got this chance, I just want to say… I'm sorry."

Drusilla didn't know what to say.

For a few seconds, she couldn't speak at all.

"Yeah, I… didn't expect a whole lot of response to that," Angel admitted. He shuffled backwards. "I'll just… get going."

He turned to leave.

"Wait," said Drusilla.

Angel paused. Glanced back, over his shoulder.

"I can't let you into my house," Drusilla apologized. "I'm sorry. Just — after what I watched you do, after what the Source showed me — I can't ever trust you. Not even if you have a soul. But if it's forgiveness you want…"

Drusilla paused. Then she looked over at Seo, beside her. So bright. So full of life. So intent on doing good and helping others. The messenger from heaven, sent to save her…

"I forgive you for what you did to me," Drusilla told Angel. Then added, quietly, beneath her breath, "But never for what you did to her."

Seo shot her a strange look.

Angel didn't hear the second part. A grateful smile spread across his face. "Have a great life, Dru," he told her. "You deserve it."

He turned, and headed off, to linger somewhere, while Drusilla and Seo had a chance to talk, together. Seo figured he wouldn't be alone for long. River was somewhere in here — she'd probably show up, sooner or later, and entertain him.

She watched, as he disappeared over the virtual horizon.

"Are you still in love with him?" Drusilla asked.

Seo blinked, confused. "What?  _Me_? With  _Angel_?" She shook her head, bewildered. "No. No! Of course not. He's my mother's ex-boyfriend. That's just… I dunno. Weird."

Drusilla took Seo's hands in her own, and smiled. "Good."

Then, raising up on her toes, she gave Seo a long, tender kiss, threading fingers through her hair. Seo, at first surprised by this, soon found herself kissing back.

"I've been told I'm too good for the universe," Drusilla whispered, in her ear. She pulled Seo inside. "I think you need to teach me how to be a little more wicked and a little less chaste."

The door clicked shut.

* * *

River and Angel strolled by Drusilla's, the next morning. There was still no sign of Seo or Drusilla.

"That's strange," said Angel. "I thought they'd be…"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it," River told him. "They've just got a lot of catching up to do. That's all."


End file.
